A crack rings out through the utterly silent room. Scraps of chocolate softly fall onto the floor. He hears the phantom sounds of beeps and buttons near him. Maybe – probably – he has gone insane. But was he sane in the first place? Nobody knows now.

Mello slowly chews on his brown delicacy. The crunches seem to loudly echo in the empty room. His hand loosely grips the candy bar while his eyes scan the air. It was unusually quiet here.  His mind clicks and he remembers that Matt isn’t here anymore. His machinery and infatuation with technology had always made a racket. Now it is eerily calm for the blond’s preference.

Suddenly, he spits out the chocolate and growls. The horrible taste lingers on his tongue, and he hates it. His gloved hand grips the bar harder and harder before it breaks into tons of pieces.

“Fuck you, goddamn bitter chocolate. Now I need to get another fucking one.”

At least his potty mouth didn’t change. If there is one thing that will stay the same, it will be that. He grabs his convenient store bag and grabs another one of the confectionary sweets. His fingers quickly tear off the plastic so the top half of the chocolate was exposed. Mello’s teeth sink into it, and no more does the bitter taste enter his mouth. He kicks his leather-clad legs up onto the coffee table in satisfaction.

When his thoughts linger to his former partner, the food abruptly changes its flavor again. Choking it down, he roughly throws it into the garbage while grumbling about changing the brand. He goes out and buys a different brand. However, when he comes home and thinks about Matt, the process repeats.

“What the hell is wrong with these stupid makers now?”

He complains, but is told that they make it the same way as always. This is confusing and means that Mello is wrong. Mello is NEVER wrong.

On the other hand, he never did quite figure out what was happening when the situation repeated over and over again.