Awake and Alive
The musty smell of the charchole filled the air. Smoke emitted from the the building,consuming everything. Two sets of eyes watched the firey inferno. A slunched figure leaned against an amanous shadow. The pitch black sky was eerie and cold. A scoffed three words were exchanged and aknowledged, both known and ignored. Sirens were heard potently in the distant horizon. They peirced the night sky and mad the slouched figure shudder.
"The sirens are moving closer." The shadowy figure spoke, hurt envading his voice. The inferno spread quickly. The heat bit at the boy's faces. The flames danced as the building burned. Ashes blew with the nightly breeze. The ashes stuck to both mens faces, the black color matching the smaller man's hair. A small moan was heard as the fire ingulfed the tranced shadows.
L's eyes flew open. He panted as he realized he had been dreaming. 'The one time I actually sleep.' The natural born insomniac sat up. He was on a cold wooden floor. He remembered the events of last night. He looked up and saw no one. He remembered moans, screams, sighs and rage. Pure and brutal rage. He smelt the sick twisted smell of dried blood. He looked at the ever so even floor boards. Blood stains covered many of the ever so new and polished boards. L sighed and closed his eyes. He remembered how he had almost blown his voice out the previouse night.
(When I woke up alone, I had everything. A handful of moments I wish I could change...)
Sweat dropped from his forehead. He placed the back of his hand up to his soaked forehead. His hair clinging to his head, as if it he was it's only chance to live. As he lowered his hand he saw crimson. Blood, the substance he hated to see. 'So things had gotten physical last night.' The voice in the back of his head said to get up and search for Light, to make things right again. But another ever so clear part of him said to stay, to leave it. To maybe let it resolve it itself. L had not wanted to risk anything like that, he had done it once before and almost lost it all. He wouldn't risk it again. 'But first I must get cleaned up. I don't need to be covered in blood.'
L trudged towards the bathroom. He switched on the light and glared at the mirror. A busted lip, a black eye and a large cut to the forehead. Not to mention his shirt was covered in blood and had a sleeve completely torn off. He sighed and washed his face with water from a small faucet. He grabbed a roll of gaws and cleaned out the cut on his forhead. He then taped a square of gaw to his forehead. He sighed as he changed into a clean pair of clothes. He didn't bother to turn the light off on his way out.
He trudged through the halls, his bare feet numb and pained. His head ached. Probally from being punched god knows how many times. As he approached the living area of the apartment he shared with Light he heard humming. It was the melody from a random fray song. He found it comforting to know that Light was at least awake. As he rounded the corner, he saw bloody clothes on the floor. L's foot hit a broken bottle, a clang was heard as the half-bottle rolled and git the table. 'Orange cream soda?' Light cocked his head in L's direction. He had a grimace on his face. He was smiling but then frowning at the same time. This pained L a bit. L smiled a half-hearted smile and sat down next to the other silhouette. "So, Where do we go now?"
(...And a toungue like a nightmare that cut like a blade...)