King of all the Toys

Mello didn't even notice until it was back in front of him, dripping onto the table. He snatched the newly-dipped pastry back up, repeating the process of before. He'd been weeks without chocolate, without any of all, and it was the only thing in this prison that made him feel the tiniest bit more like himself. The taste was familiar, soothing, and he let himself drown in it, blocking out everything else. When the remaining (mostly inner) portions of the bun were clean of chocolate again, he began to swipe the drops on the table up with the pads of his fingers to lick them up too.