Ryuzaki sat, shoulders tense as he loomed like a vulture over the sleeping body of Light Yagami.
His sleepless eyes scanned carefully the hollow of his throat, the sigh of his chest as he breathed, the soft moonlight illuminating the curve of his cheek, making it glow, a sliver of blue-white light made softer by fuzz and stubble.
He reached a tentative, long-fingered hand out to brush the spot where the moonlight faded, just to know what it felt like to trail his fingertips over the skin of his death sentence. His heart was pounding, breath shallow and silent as possible to make up for his racing pulse. He was so close now- he could feel the warmth coming off of him, and yet, still he hesitated- snatched his hand back in one silent, fluid movement and turned away, swinging his legs onto his own bunk and folding his feet beneath his knees. He breathed in and out slowly, trying to calm the pounding in his chest, the strange euphoria flooding his mind.
The soft, slim, razor intelligent being he had come so close to touching was nothing less than a murderer. L was sure of his guilt, almost beyond a shadow of a doubt, and yet, he had no hard evidence. That, and... Light's eyes, once so calculating, they had changed. Something had changed, something psychological, he was sure of that. The threat seemed minimized, and danger in those eyes gone and replaced with... innocence?
Was that really why the detective now dared to come within inches, within tiny increments of touching him? Or was it seduction of a death threat? Certainly, he had come close to dying before. It was natural that he would, given his position. But he had never slept beside his death, never had the opportunity to know what it was to feel some strange affinity or kinship with the assassin. Perhaps that was his ticket to emotion, as it were, the sort of person he could really understand and feel some sort of empathy towards. Ironic. He leaned over and flopped artlessly down on his mattress, unfolding his legs from beneath him, chin hanging over the edge of the bed. He would not sleep tonight, though there was nothing unusual about that. He did not sleep often, could count on his fingers the number of hours he'd acquired since being handcuffed to Light.
But now he was restless, unable to lull his mind into a dreamlike, peaceful state, unable to think over the entire Kira case again and consider perps and timelines and other safe thoughts. Instead, he stood and paced quietly around the foot of his roommate's bed, tilting his head to observe the boy's expression. Serene, blank, childlike. His hair was rumpled, falling over the delicate curve of his eyelids, the feathery fringe of red-brown eyelashes that rested on his cheekbones.
Sleep was vulnerable state, incredibly so. Ryuzaki wondered for a moment if he himself looked so gentle when he dozed off, but comparing his own features- messy hair, harsh lines beneath his eyes, his pale skin contrasting sharply with the darkness- perhaps it was a trait unique to Light himself.
L had never wanted to touch someone before. He was too unaware of himself, perhaps, caught up in his work completely until it was all he had left, and that was not a negative. He was not emotional, as a rule. Misa entertained him, and the way she'd kissed him ever so gently and surprised him like that had made him nervous and fascinated for a short time. These feelings had little effect on his behavior towards her, and he had disregarded them as unimportant. But looking at the sleeping Light, he was reminded of the situation. Mello hugged him, sometimes, when he could visit... Near was too much like himself, and L respected him for it. But Mello was only a child. This was a different sort of thing entirely, he knew.
He was not naive. Holding hands, kissing, the act of sex... he knew what they were, how they were done, and... little about how they felt.
But why bother? He could not, did not need to be with someone else in order to feel self-assured, as so many people seemed to. He was content in his own existence, or so he had supposed. Light was different, though. He was almost as intelligent as Ryuzaki himself, and he knew how to use that intelligence to his advantage. His physical state, slim, strong, smooth... was of no consequence to the detective whatsoever. He had met his match, his personal reaper, and he was simply curious about why someone so murderous and confusing could snuffle like an infant while he was unconscious, how anyone like that could have such eyes.
( I'm trying my best to write this from L's point of view convincingly! I think it's hard to write this character into any sort of romantic situation, but I do try. Reviews are half the reason I write, and the only reason I publish, so please let me know what you thought. 3 - Laughing Owl )