This short writing is about a girl recalling her story while living with L after the Kira case. And of course, I don't own Death Note. Thanks for reading.
Update: I have added more and plan to begin with the Kira case in the next chapter and go from there. Thanks for reading!
He cared, sometimes. Reflecting upon the unforgettable years I spent with him, his affection tactics stemmed from a mix of obligation and sincere desire to keep me close. Our silent days were always sweet for I granted him his savorous solitude as he rewarded me with brushing my hair every night. When restlessness took over the serenity which he appreciated in my moods, he would take my hand and sit me down only to remind me, gently and firmly, of the choices I had made and of those I'm still free to make. As he immersed himself in intellectual secrecy, and I in dreamy musings, we effortlessly enjoyed each other's presence nevertheless.
On nights when I was exasperated by what seemed a willful neglect, my eyes would travel through the darkness oozed out from his surroundings and ultimately through his bittersweet eyes. In these valuable moments of a quest, I saw things from his eyes and felt things from his mind. In fear of fading into him, I once again focused on the darkness although my heart throbbed dangerously for more. Content was I admitting my hopes and dreams were uncared for. Happy was I with this curse upon me…forasmuch as I breathed his presence every day.
This was me. Standing 5'0 feet tall with childlike contour and love-yielding gaze. And this was him. A human shield with a regular mad genius eloquence. Both of us had admitted ourselves as outsiders; I, more consciously, and him, more absentmindedly. His dedication and focus were penetrating, whether it was directed towards catching the most atrocious criminals or towards braiding my hair. His overt moods were vague and pale with an occasional trace of amusement at my expense.
In his words, I was unnecessarily sensitive. A temperament of wild daisies and a body too frail for the demands of the heart. Set amid our otherwise intolerable differences, there was our mutual attraction ̶̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ a mutual attraction in which skewed more in his favor than mine.
On those days, I seemed to dream in petty reality. Still not in heavens but in dreams I had faith in. with a torn sigh we held hands in this vanquished journey we walked through. Forever humming in my heart his eloquent words. The house of our dreams is forever etched upon my heart.
Resting on the couch, legs crossed, I perused the newspaper to occupy tedious hours. Next to me is the subject of the article whom I am reading about. He doesn't know I'm reading about him, or maybe he does. An unsettling feeling passed through me, that maybe he knows. Knows everything like God. They taught us in secondary school, God sees everything and hears every little word skulked in your head a few minutes before falling asleep when you had no control over your thoughts. While their fists clenched together, God is Power, they said.
But the silence of the room lulled me to continue reading. GREATEST DETECTIVE IN THE WORLD: MARKS ANOTHER MILESTONE. His ignoring eyes stilled my silent anger because he asked me to sit next to him minutes ago. And yet, there he is, ignoring me; attraction skewed in his favor again.
Clever with words he is.
He asked me to come with him to Winchester in one afternoon standing intrusively, unbeknown to me, in the room while I hurried into the room with nothing but a towel wrapped around my body. I was waiting for you to finish your shower, he said with no trace of consideration. He neared towards me and asked about my plans. Plans? What plans? I thought. In his viewpoint, confusion must have lighted my face ̶̶ ̶ in mine, it was rather embarrassment ̶̶ ̶ for he tried to rephrase his question. What I intended to do now that the case is closed? I do not know, I said, learning to mirror his seeming unawareness of my appearance. But his eyes drifted to my shoulder ̶̶ ̶ it was not unawareness after all. I felt a familiar discomfort, then my imagination recoiled. You can come with me to Winchester. I judged his eyes as his usual blank ones. His gaze seconds ago was just a gaze, nothing more.
Right at that moment of certainty, another movement of his faltered my thought. He pressed his thumb on a droplet of water sitting quietly on my skin, undisturbed before his touch. He said something along the lines of not drying myself completely. My neck was scorching red, but my mind has chosen to ignore it. Fallen ideas possessed me again. Words came out of my mouth carelessly as Fleeting touches of something alien and intrusive marked my heart once more.