A pair of deep-set eyes longed for sleep. The skin around his fingernails was bleeding and the cold handcuff cut into his wrist. In the muted light of the city below seeping through the curtains, he watched dust swirl through the air; he watched the pale skin of his companion move with each breath. Yagami Light—brilliant, cold, calculating, and not necessarily evil, although he was relatively dark for a person named Light.

L twisted the cuff around his arm and quietly considered the reason he couldn't look away. Light's sleeping body shifted, briefly tugging on the chain that bound the two together, and his eyes fluttered open. He squinted, accustoming himself to the dim glow of the room. As he looked up to meet the dark eyes that so insistently stared him down, L finally drew up the initiative to glance away.

"These handcuffs are getting pretty uncomfortable, don't you think?" Light laughed, propping himself up on an elbow and leaning ever-so-slightly forward. His eyes gleamed.

"Then why don't we get you a silk cuff liner? I hear they feel sexy." L ran his thumb across his lower lip, the trace of a smile threatening to break through his façade. "I think we have enough to deal with without you complaining."

Light's breath whistled through his teeth as he laughed again, and he went silent for what felt like ages. When he spoke, he looked up, forcing L to meet his gaze again. "Ryuuzaki, I've never seen you sleep, and I'm always taking all the blankets—"

"I'm positive I can do without."

"How can we expect our star detective to perform at one-hundred percent when you're so sleep deprived we may as well just assume you're hallucinating half the time?" Light's voice had darkened, and L could sense the challenge buried within the lighthearted banter. "You may end up dragging the rest of us down."

The twisted edge of his smile told L there was no easy way out. Light was a clever bastard. Eyes darting around the room, he considered the five percent suspicion mounted on Yagami's shoulders. Hypothetically, was Light desperate enough to continue killing people while less than two feet from the most accomplished detective in the world? Was that possible? L's eyes locked onto Light's still form, a silhouette against the wall. Without knowing exactly how Kira commits these murders, he knew there wasn't any way to exactly predict—

L bit down on his thumb. No one would win this game until it was over. Breathing in, he leaned towards the other man. "We can't have that, then, can we." He searched Light's face for any hint of expression, but he was completely unreadable, as always.

Nine percent suspicious, L thought, pulling his knees away from his chest and pushing most of the blankets to the other side of the bed. He moved to slide under the thin bedsheet when Light's cold hand reached out to stop him.

"We'll share, Ryuuzaki. We're friends, right?" Light didn't smile. He looked rather grim, in fact. "You said so yourself." And when L had settled in, the other boy was so close he could feel the heat off his back. He couldn't help but feel slightly repulsed by this human contact, but he didn't move. He didn't want to. He even couldn't find the mental footholds to consider this fresh development in the tangled mess of his thoughts; they ran wild, and even still sleep was not among them. This feeling was not trust—he would never trust Yagami Light. Then again, L didn't think he had the patience to truly detest him either.

Ten percent. He adjusted the shackle on his wrist.

L did not sleep. He only watched the shadows dance along the walls until dawn eventually claimed the sky.