I. Act

It's all an act.
Eyes closed shut to let darkness silence his inner demons, Light inhales and exhales over and over. He only thinks about spreading his fingers and popping the wrist, as if catching an invisible object mid-air. He wonders if his grip will be firm but not harsh as wished. Natural as though meant, needed and delicate at the same time.
As a talented actor, he knows fretting will ruin a performance. So why does his heart skip a beat when it's time to shoot the scene?
It's all an act.
L Lawliet isn't pretty, he has unhealthy habits and he's good only at playing gloomy characters or weird detectives. But his deep voice enchants the audience as so his fluid movements; the way he captures Light's arm and drags him closer gives him goosebumps. Light doesn't realize his shoulders stiffened until he relaxes in L's embrace and their lips collide behind the curtains of black hair. Logic melts in instinct as the kiss deepen, unrequired, but the dance of tongues always please the audience -such a cliché.
It's all an act.