Title Touch
Author Uozumi
Rating G
Summary A typical Friday date, three young adults squashed into a small couch. and a wordless game. one-sided Light/Misa, L/Misa

Touch

The screen illuminated their faces, expressions ranging from sheer boredom to queer fascination with the characters on the screen. The teenager on the end of the sofa stifled a yawn, and pretended to be enjoying himself. His arm across the back of the sofa, he glanced at his companions. The girl was positively lapping the program up, her brown eyes trained on the screen while the twenty-year-old male on the end of the sofa seemed to be caught somewhere between the program and reality.

Hearing a soft clinking, he watched the girl snap from the program. Even though the two men were chained together, she insisted on sitting between them. It would have been easier if she just sat on his other side, even if that meant she would have his right arm in a death grip.

"Ne…" the man on the other end of the sofa began, and then stopped.

"Ne what…?" the girl asked, her attention finally broken from the television program.

There was a silence as ending credits began to roll in the background. The twenty-year-old stretched his prehensile toes out and then curled them around the cushion again. The couch was small and the three were squished together. His leg brushing the girl's arm with his movement.

The girl moved her arm slightly and scooted closer to the younger male on the couch. Her eyes trained on the older male.

"Misa….stop moving," came a disgruntled response as she squished the teenager into the arm of the couch. Muttering inwardly, the bleached male stifled his relieved sigh as she went back to sitting where she once was.

The question forgotten, three pairs of brown eyes returned to the television screen where a woman was pushing a new shampoo product. "Ne, Ryûzaki-kun….?"

"What is it?" Ryûzaki turned his eyes away from the television and uncurled his toes again. His fingers flexed from where they rested on his thighs.

Misa seemed to shake her head for a moment and then asked, "What were you going to say?"

Their companion watched them, his fingers running across the chain. His arm was starting to fall asleep, and he was tiring of this ritual. Counting in his head, the bleached boy watched as Ryûzaki moved at the precise moment he always did.

"Ne, I think I'll have some more of Misa's cake." The foreigner rose up slightly and reached out for a rather large piece on the table in front of them, the chain following his right arm, hitting Misa slightly in the neck.

"Hey!"

"Sorry, sorry."

The bleached boy watched as Misa reflexively leaned against his body, but her eyes were trained on every movement Ryûzaki made as she rubbed the back of her head where the chain hit her.

Sitting back up, his cake in hand, fork at ready, Ryûzaki offered some to both teenagers on the couch, eliciting a comment about sweets making you fat, and a simple headshake. Satisfied that he was getting the whole scrumptious piece, his dark eyes returned to the television screen as Misa picked the channel changer up, flipping to something else.

Yet another "date" on another Friday night.

The End