Disclaimer: I do not own Death Note, Pride and Prejudice, or Ben and Jerry's ice cream.

A/N: What is your favorite Ben and Jerry's flavor? I like Phish Food and Caramel Cone. :D That's actually relevant to the fanfic; I'm not that insane. Also, I totally just bought the theme music from Brokeback Mountain. :D

I was healthy, upright, responsible, respectable, intelligent, and well-adjusted. I was always mature for my age, and my parents treated me like an adult because of it. We were poor but not wretched. They were perfectly comfortable leaving me home alone when I was as young as five: I was just that independent. My parents adored me but were busy trying to keep me alive, so I spent a lot of time alone. I never minded. I actually grew to prefer it. I was solitary, content, attentive, quiet, and about thirty-five years old at heart.

And then my parents died, I moved to Wammy's, and I met Mello.

Mello was everything I wasn't; the screaming, wild, chaotic embodiment of my polar opposite. I thought he was a girl when I first met him and fell in love immediately. He took to me, too, and almost from day one we were inseparable. And I started to change.

I loosened up to counteract Mello's intensity. I started smile more- all the time- to counteract Mello's mood swings. I made myself softer- I cry when I'm hurting and laugh when I'm happy- to counteract the stone that Mello becomes when he's feeling something other than passion. I've become observant and gained the ability to see through people's masks, because Mello will never, never tell you when something's wrong- you have to be able to tell. Which is really fucking annoying, by the way. I love it.

My parents probably wouldn't have approved of what became of their beloved son, but I have always believed that it was for the better. They always used to say that they wanted me to be happy. If I could have made them understand that Mello was my happiness, then maybe they would have learned to deal with it. The only thing they probably wouldn't have gotten used to was that I became a chain smoker. Seriously, though, I had to do something to deal with the madness. I think it's worth it: maybe I'll die sooner, but at least I'll have lived my years well.

It doesn't matter. They're dead, and I would have done it anyway, even if they were alive. Anything to be with Mello.

I remember the day I found out he wasn't a girl. It actually took me two whole weeks to make the connection. It was that hair. It threw me off. Anyway, when I finally figured it out, I waited for my 'extra' feelings for him to go away accordingly.

They never did and I accepted that they never would.

It became evident over time that he was gay (the nail polish is what tipped over the realization for me), and I was so happy about it that I could have exploded. If I had made my move sooner, I could have been his first and he could have been mine. But I was stupid and scared of losing him as a friend, and I didn't tell him. He got a boyfriend- some asshole named Rane, and damn were they touchy. As Mello's roommate, I politely pretended to be asleep, but I seriously didn't need to hear Mello losing his virginity. I really didn't. And I also didn't need the boner. It was all very traumatic.

And it happened every night for two weeks until Roger caught on and shut it down. I could have kissed Roger when he came barging into the room and tore them off of each other, but I was supposed to be asleep and oblivious. I heard Roger whisper-yelling at them as he dragged them out of the room and to what I assume was his office, and then faintly heard him fully yelling when they got there.

Mello and that Rane bastard broke up shortly thereafter. They didn't really like each other for more than the ass, anyway. I couldn't entirely blame The Bastard- Mello really did have a distracting ass. But if he had gotten to know Mello, Mello as a person, and if he saw him how I saw him, then he never would have let go. That was how I knew he wasn't good enough for the one I was so obsessively in love with.

Needless to say, I was delighted when Mello reported to me the ending of the arrangement. I broke out Pride and Prejudice (Mr. Darcy is the original bad boy, shut the hell up) and a pint of Ben and Jerry's (the two men who will never leave you) Chocolate Fudge Brownie, and we ate it directly out of the carton like girls, and, also like girls, cussed out Mr. Darcy for being such a flaming hot prick and doing absolutely nothing for so long about the fact that he loved the chick. That movie is the longest foreplay in the history of mankind.

Mello wasn't even upset about being one Rane short, but he wasn't about to turn down chocolate ice cream. One would think one would have some kind of emotional connection to the first person one has sex with, but Mello's always been different like that. Not that I wasn't glad. His not being upset made it a much less awkward situation when I confessed- that same night- that I'd loved him forever. I tactfully left out the part about thinking he was a girl in the beginning. He wouldn't like that. He thinks he's manly.

When I told him, he looked like he wanted to punch me. For a moment, he almost did it, even though he had never hit me before. He stared at me for a long time, trying to figure out if I was serious, and evidentially he decided I was because he jumped me.

I liked it much better when it was me. I didn't even have to pretend to be asleep.

Roger was completely exasperated when he found out later that Mello had immediately moved on to me. He didn't try to separate us though, for some reason. He probably knew it was futile, because he must have noticed over the years how much I loved Mello. That, or he was convinced that Mello intended to mount every male in the establishment. If he thought that, he was wrong. Mello was mine, and I wouldn't be sharing.

He called us both into his office one evening and gave us The Talk. It was long overdue. Neither of us could get pregnant and if Mello had any STDs I had picked them up a loooong time ago. Not that it mattered to me: if Mello was gonna get syphilis and die, then I might as well get it too and die with him.

And here we are, years later. Roger is probably rolling over in his grave in pure disbelief that Mello could actually love someone. I mean, unless Roger's still alive. Who knows? He's older than dirt anyway. He was like 200 when I was a kid. He should be keeling over any time now. And good riddance.

Because, yeah, my Mello is capable of loving someone. He's not defective. He's not a psychopath. He is, in fact, the most incredible person I've ever met.

So there.

Yes, I've changed more than a bit over the years. But it's Mello, and it's a whole lot better than being healthy, upright, and responsible.