A/N: Here I am with my first Death Note story!! Since I am so in love with L, I had to write something and this idea popped into my head. Happy day! I hope you will enjoy it.
Finally, Sleep
by mrtysh
L sighed in defeat. Yet another day had passed, and no real evidence had been revealed. He had his theories and educated guesses based on what little information he had on the case, but it nothing to make any great amount of fuss over.
So, he wouldn't pay it any mind. He would forget for the short time he had available to sleep. As if none of the elements of this stressful situation existed. As if his memories of it were wiped completely.
L found his eyelids to be increasingly heavy. He couldn't take it anymore; the exhaustion was killing him. Literally.
Sighing heavily once more, he clicked the lock closed to the small room that was his in the headquarters. He wasn't going to allow anyone to interrupt this short time he had, it was vital that he got it.
He glanced at his reflection in the mirror behind the door. It looked like that of a dead person who somehow managed to rise their limp corpse out of their casket. Rather pitiful, really. His eyes were black; nothing more than dark tunnels of mystery with deep, gouged lines of exhaustion underneath them, like horrifying bruises almost.
His face was so pale it could easily be mistaken for a white bed-sheet. He could have sworn his cheeks were even more bony than usual, and one could clearly see all the bones in his back and shoulders, despite his poor choice of nutrition.
L shook his head and sighed. Unfortunately, there was nothing to be said for his disgraceful looks. His poorly kept, jet-black hair jutted out from his scalp and from behind his ears in all the wrong places; purely unattractive. Eventually turning his back on the mirror, he tugged his old, stale white long-sleeved shirt off his thin frame and absolutely refused to examine his poorly muscled bare chest. He tossed the ragged article of clothing to the side.
He left his aging, faded jeans on, not wishing to remove them; it wouldn't feel quite right. L motivated slowly to the bed just in time for his collapse onto it. The semi-neatness of the covers mattered not to him; he stripped them clean off the bed and draped them over him, warming his body up considerably. He could feel his mind slowly drifting away, his consciousness slipping away gradually. Finally, he could feel this relief of being able to relax. Finally, he could rest his tired eyes and limbs.
Finally, sleep.
A/N: Well, my first Death Note story, drabble/oneshot. I hope that SOMEBODY likes it, please R&R!!!
love mrtysh