A/N: Hello there! This is my first DN ffic, so I decided to make something short (although that can change and this may turn into something longer, who knows). It is L/Light pre-slash if you want to see it that way (it would also be kinda fluffy), but if you don't really enjoy yaoi you can also see it as friendship. It's all up to your imagination! Also, this is the first thing I write in English, so if you find any mistakes, bad grammar, misspellings... be sure to comment! I'd really appreciate it.

Don't forget to comment if you like it or have suggestions!

Shh.

No sound.

Silence.

Being awake in bed at this point during nigh-time felt strangely nice. Although he would rather sleep for eight (or more) hours, tonight was different. He didn't feel tired, but invigorated by the accuracy with which he could perceive everything. The light of the buildings passing gently through the curtains covering the large and only window glass of the room. The other rhythmic, relaxed breathing by his side, the extremely soft (also expensive) bed clothing; but, above all of that, he noticed the silence. Maybe (not really because he knew for sure) the lack of sound was the problem. Finding yourself in the situation of having to sleep with a workaholic insomniac, the last thing you expect is the perfect silence to happen; so when it actually does you might find it a little bit overwhelming (not to mention weird after tree weeks of intense typing getting stuck in your skull while you, unlike your room-mate, try to sleep). It was almost funny , how, given the chance to actually have a tiny dose of normal and pleasant rest he can't sleep, he wanted to laugh at that thought but he also didn't feel like awakening the sleeping figure beside himself (mainly because he'd instantly go back to work).

He looked at him, that restless asshole was pretty adorable while sleeping, that undisturbed and peaceful face was so nice he could be staring at it for hours (and taking a look at how his night was going he may do it). Out of curiosity he brushed all of those dark locks away so he could cast a glance at his face. Dark circles highlighted by that action, although he found them rather fitting; if anyone would appear nice with such a deep shadow under their eyes it was him, that being (among many other details, most of which were less noticeable for the average spectator) his trademark, without them it must certainly would not feel like the same person. Even though he will never admit it, was glad that if he had to stay 24/7 with someone it was him. Which was almost like saying he wouldn't change anything about him (well, that wasn't entirely true, he'd change the unhealthy things, because it's harming and disturbing), damn, he cared about the idiot. After all, if he was his first and only friend, it didn't really feel any different the other way around.

"I know I normally say I can't stand you, but what I really hate are your crazy habits and all of your accusations". He mused very low, to himself, so focused on the words he didn't even realise he was thinking out loud."What truly annoys me is when you tell me I'm your friend. I mean, how could you do that to yourself? Is it some kind of twisted plot to use my feelings, because I care (have you heard? I've admitted it, there, I care a whole fucking lot about you), against me? You think I am some kind of psycho and still, you see me as a friend? Is that the little respect you have for yourself? That doesn't seem right for an arrogant bastard like you. So most of the time I just think you're lying. But it's confusing, 'cause there's this few moments when it almost seems as if you were being honest. And, let's be realistic, the idea of one of us being sincere to the other sounds laughable... even if you are only lying I really do see you as a friend, actually you're my only true friend. Though you believe I am a crazy mass murderer, I don't mind you being weird, in fact I like that. You see, everyone is so boring, but then there's you, all bizarre and challenging, you're unique, and I love that. In spite of all of your annoying observations or that apparent lack of emotion that pisses me off, I really do like you".

Then, the sleeping man showed a small smile.

"Light, you realise I have being awake since you touched my face". He said in a mocking tone matching his amusement due to the embarrassment his friend was currently feeling. His eyes still closed, he continued talking. "And, also that you were speaking out loud. You were so deep in thought that you didn't even notice the changing in my breathing patterns. For that I am very, very disappointed. But what you said was utterly...touching".

"Stop teasing".

"I can't, I guess that is one of the things that make me so 'unique' ".

"I hate you".

"We both know that is not true". He made a small pause and kept on with more seriousness. "And, for the record, I do see you as a friend, I am not lying, you are my best friend. Even if you are indeed Kira that can't change the fact that you are someone I care for, regardless who you might actually be. I can't help it".

"That... was nice...thank you".

"You are very welcome, and now," he said as he moved to take his laptop "back to work".

"Awww! Screw you! Someday I'm going to kill you for this".

"Come on Light, go to sleep, it worries me when you can't lie well. Besides, most likely the reason you couldn't sleep is you having got too accustomed to hearing me typing at night".

After a while L looked back at him.

"It worries me when you can't lie well, but it hurts me more that you may be telling the truth this time. I really hope that I am wrong, just this once".

Thanks for reading!

There's a translation to French from Always-Slythindor now!