I Want Booths Ringtone From Bones

Somethin '+ # 3

So.
Before anything else, go take a look at what maxxers has done for me * _ * / - love this woman even too simple really! A set of icons on Effy \u0026lt;3
Mariachiara kill me "
XD Anyway, I'm writing a Tone / Effy, of course, because after the episode 2x06 could not be otherwise - and for this I must thank two of my threeM. . And now we move on to serious matters.


Chapter # 3 - Eva Doyle when he kisses you drool - entering Mello says. Then sniffles and looks in the direction of where it should be Near, but can not find it and then looks around the room.
He planted his eyes in the glass of the window, absorbed nell'attorcigliarsi a hedgehog around the index and clear to touch with a bare foot a train lying on the floor, casually.
- I'd know if I kissed her, but do not know because he has never kissed Eva Doyle.
- Never before this afternoon, in fact, when Super Mello has saved from the cruel fate of an old maid making her a very good kisser.
- The world thanks you, Super Mello - Near laughs and looks at him smiling.
Mello smiled in turn.
But their smiles are two different, diametrically opposites.
- You dovresi be drowned in the billions of passwords that you lack access to archives of the CIA in the damn vain: what are you doing at the window? You take a break?
Near opened his eyes and stands up. E'alto at least half of Mello, despite having just fifteen months apart. He can only look into his eyes, raising a little the head - one hundred degrees, he speculated.
- I managed at least an hour ago while you were nowhere to necking with that chick.
- I was in the garden - Mello grins and sits on the floor at the foot of Near - you should get out of this damn room, down the stairs, face facie fifty humans, opening the door, exit in the garden. It would be also nice, after all. I'd found leaning against a tree. Eva Doyle with his hands in his pants. Pleasant. Near
looks away and sits at his computer. In the bluish light of the monitor its vaguely grayish white hair that becomes even clearer.
- There are reports demeaning. Tomorrow L.
- Again? Shit, here was something like four times this week. Near
laughs and leans slightly to look better on the monitor.
- Yes, it seems that the question of the successors to the extreme in the latter period. Mello ran a hand through his hair, then approaches to monitor and look at the page too, visibly exasperated.
- Easy to him to move along once and for all. Finally.
- Do not be an asshole, Mello. The world needs him.
- No one needs him and that you're not trying to ingratiate himself. As if you do not already know all that you choose.
Near opened his eyes and looks at Mello. Everything you want in this moment would have never heard the last words uttered by Mello.
- He will choose you - say, in the end - and that's because you're the best, Mello.
- Do not say crap. But anyway, what is the incredible excuse that use to come tomorrow?
Mello leaves, approaching the window. Look out and imagines what would have their lives if they had not been designated since birth as the successors of L., if they had grown up together, if they had never met. Takes off his clothes slowly, smiling. Near
looks at him, but I can not smile. He knows how it would go: they themselves were, however, in some way. But the hubs were a part of themselves: each other.
Obviously not in the Platonic sense, of course.
no one claimed to be the continuation of the other, nor to make their lives with only each other or even completely different. Simply
aspettavno to be something together. Something extraordinary and wonderful.
and eternal.
- No excuses. Dice Watari on the phone that should see us.
- There? It's the first time someone uses this formula: they are moved. Near
gets up and goes up to him without looking.
Every time you kiss, for some strange reason neither of them can understand, wobbly.
They are not afraid of what they do, certainly not.
But something is first and foremost in their minds and their bodies immediately after putting into circulation a series of strange desire that causes them to make Moviement of which are completely foreign to both.
do things which can not give names.
Mello know the titles of all the poems that make up Les Fleures du Mal Near and calls each by name polygon never been designed by a human being, but what happens at the slightest touch of their bodies do not know how to explain it.
Seplicemente, they claim.
Their movements are so precise, so perfect as to be undeniably necessary.
- You have to kiss a girl, Near - Mello said with a sigh, wriggling with difficulty by the kiss.
- Mai.
Nobody knows. Everybody knows that.
does not really matter to anyone. What matters is that
L. pick one of only two.
And what will the other will follow him everywhere, everyday.
Until the end.

The rest, of course: it's boring. But
I want feedback, definitely. Here