L, I want you. I want your name and your face and the reason why you sit like a monkey and how you came to live solely on sweets and what you wanted to be when you grew up. I want to have all the pieces of you in my hands to break or to cherish as I see fit.
I want the handcuffs back around your wrist because it means you can't forget me and I want to leave bruises all over your perfect pale skin so every time you move you'll be reminded of me and I want you to hurt me because then I know you're thinking about no one but me.
I want you to writhe under me with a knife at your throat raising drops of red blood on the silver blade because you only bleed for me, only feel for me. I want you to scream my name as you reach that one perfect moment and die as I want you to, with my name on your lips, my face the last image of your eyes. Mine to the last gasping breath as you bleed out onto white sheets splashed with the colour of passion and danger. A freshly fucked angel. A willing sacrifice. Mine.
Sometimes I hate Kira, even if he is me. Because no one is allowed to take any part of what is mine and you've given Kira your hatred and I want it. Sometimes I want to tell you my secret, just so the hatred comes back to me, where it belongs, because you're mine. Sometimes I think I'd rather kill you then let you look at someone else and risk seeing emotion on your impassive face for anyone but me. Sometimes.
I don't think this can be love, because it hurts too much. It hurts when you look away from me and it hurts when you don't, because I know that eventually you are going to have to and I miss it already. It hurts to feel your bare skin against mine because I can't get any closer and I want to, I want to.
You're not even handsome. You have no dress sense, no style, no presence and certainly nothing striking apart from your weirdness. You're too thin despite all the sweets you eat and I can count every rib when you take off that stupid baggy white shirt. The bags under your eyes make you look like a starving panda and I doubt your hair has been combed since you were too old for Watari to do it for you. You're nothing, not compared to me.
But I'd still kill for you and die for you and I'd choke the last breath from your throat and stop your heart before I let anyone else have you. I want and I bleed and I die inside every time you pull away from me and I don't know why.
L, what did you do to me?