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***
Blue. Red. Green.
Paint pots. White Lego bricks.
Some time had passed since Near had started giving each day a colour. He dipped the white Lego bricks in paint and stacked them in his wardrobe.
"Please tidy that up, Near," Roger asked him after one of his countless room inspections. "And use the wardrobe for clothes, just like any other normal person."
Well... He just wasn’t.
Like any other normal person.
Just as the Lego bricks in his wardrobe weren’t just any old Lego.
It was his kind of diary. It was his way of expressing his feelings. He couldn’t grasp them any other way, nor could he put them into any logical order.
The feelings that connected him to Mello.
***
The first Lego brick was blue.
Blue because the sky had been clear and cloudless on that winter's day. A day steeped in peace and tranquillity. A truly beautiful day. But also a very cold one. At least in theory.
It was the day Mello first came to him. Without knocking. Out of the blue. After years of ignoring him. He sat down on the bed next to him and spread his blue duvet over them. They sat there for hours until it grew dark.
Talking.
Eating milk chocolate.
Then Mello left again. Without saying goodbye.
And Near dipped a white Lego brick in paint for the first time.
***
Many blue Lego bricks followed.
Because Mello kept coming back.
And stayed with Near for longer than his body was actually there.
Because Near spent the whole night racking his brains over what logical conclusion he should draw from Mello’s visits.
Because he kept folding and smoothing out the wrapper from Mello’s empty chocolate bar. And the first time, he found no answer to a question.
In no encyclopaedia.
This threw his orderly world into chaos.
***
Then the deep blue grew ever fainter. Because blue signified not only tranquillity, but also coldness.
Those were the light blue, almost white Lego bricks.
Those were the days when Mello ignored him and didn't speak to him, as if he didn't exist.
The days when Near would throw open his wardrobe, just to convince himself that there had ever been other days with Mello.
Then the blue grew stronger again. Because Mello came back to him. He smiled at him. In a way that only Mello could.
He crept under the duvet beside him like a stray cat that had finally found a home.
He put a piece of chocolate in Near’s mouth and told him he liked it. The peace and tranquillity he found with him.
And that he didn't ask any stupid questions.
***
Spring arrived.
And Near had given each day a beautiful colour. Pink. Purple. Yellow. Green. Just like the flowers in Wammys’ garden.
Because his days weren’t made up solely of formulas, definitions and toys.
They were made up of Mello and him.
There was just one grey Lego brick in the row.
On that day, Mello had a sad look on his face as he sat on his mattress, as he often did.
This was the only time Mello ever gave Near a glimpse into his past.
Mello told Near that he sometimes wondered why his parents didn’t want him anymore. Why they had left him alone. What was wrong with him.
He also said that he envied Near because his parents were dead, meaning he didn’t have to ask himself those questions.
Was he a depraved person for wanting dead parents more than parents who never wanted him?
Sometimes, Mello said, he didn’t know what to do with his feelings. They simply overwhelmed him, like a violent storm or a tsunami.
He then did things he didn’t want to do. But which he had to do. Because he couldn’t help himself.
Near couldn’t help but ask him that day if he would like to stay with him. All night. He hoped to be able to give Mello what he himself didn’t know or have.
A foothold.
A safe haven.
For everything that life had made of them.
***
The next Lego brick was dark red. Red like blood. Like pain.
Because Mello was always angry. And Near had made the mistake of asking him why he was so angry after a few days.
Mello shoved Near against the wall and shouted, asking what business it was of his and telling him to mind his own fucking business.
He said he hated him and his whole face.
He pounded his fists into the wall next to Near’s head. Until they bled, and the red dripped onto Near’s white shirt.
It was Mello’s way of crying.
Then he disappeared. And he didn’t come back for several days.
It was the only time Near would have loved to smash the Lego bricks in his wardrobe.
Instead, he took his soft toys and threw them against the wall. With all his might, anger and despair.
Until it stopped hurting.
Deep in his heart.
***
For the next few days, he spent his time building towers of white Lego bricks, only to knock them down again.
Then he dipped them in red paint. In black. And grey. But he was never satisfied.
No single colour really suited.
Then, suddenly, Mello was standing in his room again. In the middle of the night.
His eyes looked at him as if they wanted to kill him. But his face showed no emotion.
He walked slowly towards him. Without saying a word.
Near trembled. He was afraid of what might happen next. He didn’t want to ask why. Not again.
But then Mello's expression changed.
He grabbed Near by the shoulder. He forced him to sit up, pulled him close and pressed his head against his chest.
Mello’s heart was beating unusually fast. It was pounding hard, as if it might leap out at any moment.
Near could feel it. Everything about him was warm. Like orange. Yellow. Or a beautiful shade of red. Or all of them together.
Mello ran his fingers through his white hair, lifted his chin and kissed him gently. As if he were afraid of breaking him.
Near had never experienced such a lovely sensation in his stomach before. He had never tasted anything so sweet.
They kissed for a long time. They played with their tongues, nibbled each other's lips and refused to let go of each other.
Mello’s warm body covered his.
All night long.
And suddenly, Near had the answer.
The answer to why Mello had sought his closeness, why he had been so angry, why he had kissed him, and why every day with him had a different colour.
He was in love. They were in love. They had been all along. Ever since he had dipped the first Lego brick in paint.
That night, Near placed the final Lego brick. It was the only colourful one.
The most beautiful of them all.
***
“Hey! How much longer are you going to stand there, staring into your wardrobe like an idiot?”
Mello pushed a heavy suitcase out of Near’s room and into the hallway. Near had been nagging him all day about his inability to part with his things. The end result was that Mello was carrying row upon row of suitcases full of childish junk out of Wammy's House. Mello had no idea how they were ever going to fit all this into their first flat together.
He wrapped his arms around his boyfriend and kissed his neck. Together, they looked at the Lego brick structure in Near’s wardrobe.
"You’ve never told me what this colourful wall of Lego bricks is actually supposed to represent. It’s grown like a parasite. Are you hoping it’ll eventually kill whoever opens your wardrobe?”
“You’d probably like that, Mello.”
"Can't deny it, Near."
Mello would laugh at him if he told him that the building bricks represented their relationship.
He wondered whether he should ask Mello if he could take the Lego bricks with him. But then he decided it wouldn’t be right.
What was in his wardrobe was the past.
Today, however, was the first day of their future together.
A future full of colour.
***
The end.