[It's much more than "a kind of" pain, but Mello understands the need to downplay weaknesses, above all else. The admission that follows catches him off-guard; his hand goes still inside of the pastry bag, he shifts in his seat.]

[What is his answer? (Run off, flee the country, go on a spree.) The choices Mello made after his first, major loss (take a hostage; get the notebook) aren't something he would suggest anyone do, let alone L. And L is looking to him for something, isn't he?]

[Anything. Anything to make this feeling of death in the absence of death go away.]

[Mello can't judge him; not now. Not when his own chest is so tight that it creeps up into his throat. He knows without knowing: the torment of losing a lover, not just an idol. It's worse, somehow.]

You clean up.

[One step at a time. Looks like Mello won't be getting any studying done — again — but he can't have L in a state. Especially when it's affecting him, second hand.]

You're on the floor with an excerpt on cat piss stamped on your cheek. [He finally withdraws the pastry, holding it for a moment before biting in.]

So you have a shower, [Shrug.] change your clothes, stand up straight, and make a plan.

[Is there any other option?]

Unless you prefer the floor.