A.N: Yay. Next chapter. ^.^ Some tiny revisions on this part along with some add-age on the story's whole structure were done to better read this, but I guess if you never read the original, it doesn't really matter...

I'm kind of glad that I split this up, since now I can answer any questions people might have on certain parts a lot better than I could have done so before! So, if you're confused or just have a general question about the story that you want to ask, let me know! I know these first couple of parts are essentially a bit confusing to read, but it's done so for a reason! Thanks for reading, you guys, and I hope you enjoy the next chapter! :D

"I hold it true, whate'er befall;

I feel it, when I sorrow most;

'Tis better to have loved and lost

Than never to have loved at all."

-Alfred Tennyson

Title: Your Eyes, Shining

Two: Wishes Falling Like Shooting Stars

(It was a simple testament written on my heart… it brought me back to life.)

"HEY!" L called out as he beeped his horn, his other hand gripping the steering wheel with clenched fingers and sweaty skin.

Light whipped around in surprise, the tiny silver car appearing dark gray under the night sky and old traffic lights. Cinnamon-brown hair flew around the chiseled features of his face as the wind played against the boy's body, giving him an attractively disheveled look.

"Do you need a ride?!" The usually-timid man surprised even himself at the sudden neediness to have the other man close to him as the gorgeous young male (whom he didn't even know if he had a chance with, mind you) smiled and bounded to the car without hesitation.

"Thanks." Light murmured as he closed the car door behind him, the smile brightening even as L slightly shifted away from the nymph-like stranger with a shaky smile of his own. "I would think you were a stalker, but since you're so damn quiet and non-responsive, I'll just assume you're a homicidal sexual-deviant instead and hope I don't become a victim."

"What?!"

"Did I say something to offend?" Light snickered as L attempted to stifle his own grin under an unsuccessful frown, knowing that there was no real arguing with the jokester riding alongside with him. "Do you want me to apologize?"

"How about you just tell me where your apartment is and we'll go from there?"

"Splen-did!"

"Has anyone commented on how flamboyant you act?" L muttered under his breath, his heart beating erratically against his ribcage. Light smirked in response before his lips parted in amusement, another snarky comment just ready to be shot without hesitation.

"Well, considering that I am a fairly stylish man-queen, I'll take that as a compliment. Just don't expect me to don my pretty pink sparkly heels quite yet, since I've forgotten them in my apartment right next to my totally masculine girdle. Which I've proven can totally be considered mannishly stylish, by the way." Light burst out laughing as L almost swerved into the sidewalk, giving him wide-eyed glances on the side. "Oh, you can turn left at the next traffic light while you're at it."

"… … I think that is the most inventive way someone has ever told me they were gay… while not exactly outing themselves and conveniently spurting something random at the end of said non-outing." L nodded to himself, not sure if he should be jumping for joy or laughing himself silly at his outrageous luck so far. "I give you kudos."

"A-thank you." Giving the man in the driver's seat a rather over-the-top wave of his hands, Light smirked as he bowed his head in mock-satisfaction. "I do what I can for the good of myself, of course."

"I'm sure." Decaying buildings along with flickering street lights trailed after the old car speeding forward, the passengers inside both relishing in the other's company with ongoing banter that seemed to liven up the atmosphere between them.

As L laughed at something Light said (later on, he wouldn't be able to say just what it was that made him so capricious with happiness), the cheeky brunette turned to stare at the writer with a reckless abandon and starving nostalgia that the dark-haired driver missed entirely before turning slightly to the side, just about to open his mouth to speak-

Warm lips cut him off before he could say a word, stealing the breath from his lungs for all of two seconds before the air was returned back to his body.

Wide dark eyes quickly returned back to the road as a dark rose-pink dusted itself over L's cheeks.

"There's my stop! You can drop me off right there!" Light pointed at a small apartment complex directly in front of them on the right side of the road, L slowing down in a bit of a blur as he was still dazed from the impact of Light's small peck on his lips.

"You should come over next week." The man suddenly announced before opening the car down and stepping out, one foot still inside the car as the other dangled over the sidewalk.

"… … You're inviting me into your home after just having met me and then accusing me of being some sort of criminal of the sexual nature and then… kissing me?" L wondered if, maybe, he wasn't the only person in the vehicle with problems in the head. "Isn't that, I don't know… stupid?"

"Well, if you were going to attack me, I figure you would have done so already… unless that's your plan…" Laughing at the mortified look on L's face, Light closed the door behind him, still peeking over the open car window. "Lull me into a false state of security and then BOOM! Next thing ya know you're defecating over my charred, chopped up remains in your dingy, kind of hippy-looking apartment. I've seen through your plan, Mister…"

The blue-eyed writer blinked before silently bringing up his thumb and chewing on aforementioned digit.

"Uh… does that… mean you don't want me to come see you, now?"

Light rolled his eyes as he plucked L's cell-phone from out of his pocket (how he knew it was in that pocket, L would like to know) and punched in a series of numbers before snapping it closed. "There ya go! Call me whenever you like, ok?!"

"… Like… now, perhaps…?" L dumbly responded, holding his phone with a grip only a germ-aphobe would appreciate.

Peals of laughter echoed around them as the empty street was tinkering with peaking echoes and caustic steps made against the heavy cement sidewalk. Waving over his shoulder, Light gave his newfound companion a rather coy smile before opening the door and strutting inside the complex, not looking the least bit worried.

L tried to pretend that the smile on his face wasn't one made out of excitement…

But even he couldn't make up a lie clever enough to excuse the cherry red cheeks and twittering hands that accompanied the expression set on his lips. It was…

Magical.

Series of moments passed him by in mere instances-

But he couldn't hold onto them.

They were slipping…

"I can't do this, I can't do this, I can't do this."

Pacing in his (theirs, it was supposed to be theirs) living room, his eyes glistening with foreign tears, L continued to bite onto his thumb with relentless gnaws. Picking up his cell-phone from the small table that sat in the middle room (the one Light had picked out after days and days of debate), L attempted to once again call the number he had been dreading to dial for almost two weeks.

One ring became two.

Two then became three.

And…

Then there was the message.

"The number you are trying to call is no longer in service. Please hang up and dial again."

He almost didn't want to believe it.

But there it was.

Looking down at the phone, the writer almost dropped to the floor, the intensity of the gaze unrelenting.

'No…'

Ring after ring, dial after dial, L received the same response.

"The number you are trying to call is no longer in service. Please hang up and dial again."

Each time L dialed, it was the same voice that struck up on the other line.

"The number you are trying to call is no longer in service. Please hang up and dial again."

With each rabid punch of the keys, L's temper threatened to consume him whole.

"The number you are trying to call is no longer in service. Please hang u-."

Flinging the phone away from him, the dark-haired writer dropped his body onto the floor as the sharp crack of the small machine smashing against the wall satisfied part of his anger, only to be overcome by the intense misery that was building up within his throat.

"Light…" The overcome author simpered, not knowing what else to do. "Please… come home to me please…"

Slipping away.

Just like-

Grains of sand through his fingers;

Or clear water pouring over his hands.

It was-

"I met someone last week." L muttered, his eyes narrowed onto the teacup sitting on the table just in front of him.

Mail nearly tripped over his shoelaces as he got up to go to the bathroom, not quite expecting the random admission.

"Really?" Looking over his shoulder to make sure that Mihael was still in the kitchen, Mail gave him a small thumbs-up. "Were they drop dead sexy along with a good portion of caliente, my friend?"

"Scalding, actually. Too hot to be touched." The dry response coupled with the equally dry smile made the redhead snort in amusement, not having seen this side of his friend in a long, long time. "They introduced themselves to me quite suddenly while I was in a train returning from New York. It was… startling."

"What's her name?"

L's cheeks turned bright red, seemingly on command.

"… Uh…"

"Oh…" Mail winked over at his friend before giving him another lame thumbs-up. "So what's his name?"

"… … His… his name is Light."

Both men jumped up in shock as Mihael came crashing in, bashing his knee on the carpeted floor. Mail hurried over to his boyfriend and helped him up, covering his own shell-shocked face on the crook of his neck.

"Are you alright?" L queried, concerned by the sudden silence of the room. "That looked like quite a nasty fall."

"Yeah. I'm fine." Mihael chuckled quite flakily as he brushed his boyfriend off of him and sat down on the couch adjacent to L's seat. "So… you met a cute boy, huh? Sounds like he must be dreamy if he's managed to catch your attention, all things considered."

"Yes." L cleared his throat as he pulled his legs up and buried his now burning face against his knees. "Yes, he is."

Inevitable, really.

"He sent me a letter." L muttered, tossing the aforementioned envelope onto the table so that his friend could see it. "You read it."

Curled silvery-white hair bounced against dark-brown eyes as Nate shook his head, brushing imaginary dirt off of his pristine white dress-shirt. "I'm not going to do that for you, L. In fact, I refuse to be put in the middle of this in any way whatsoever."

"I'm not asking you to be in the middle…" L huffed out a breath as he gave his friend a bland glare. "There's no choosing sides here, Nate, I just can't read it. Please."

"Yes, you ca-"

"Nate, either you do this for me, or I'm leaving." The older man's face barely twitched as the younger of the two sighed in irritation, his light hair almost illuminating under the blaring lights of his apartment.

"… Fine. Give me the damn letter and stop being so freaking dramatic." Nate snarled as he tore the piece of paper from L's hand and took a glance down at the neat, precise print set onto the lined mass of white and blue. "With that temper, it's no wonder why he left…"

"Nate!" The strong scold barely made the other twitch in reproach as he kept on reading, dark brown eyes roaming over the page emphatically.

"Oh, did I say that out loud?" Twirling a curly lock of platinum-white hair with his index finger, the English teacher rolled his eyes without once looking up at what he was sure was a glare of death and destruction. "Sorry. Now shut up and let me read."

After a couple minutes of reading line from line (Word. From. Word.) of the paper in front of him, Nate glanced up at L with slanted eyes and a shaking head.

"Well?" L seemed to be crumbling within himself as he began to continuously pace against the hardwood floor, the modern décor of the studio apartment seeming to blur as the walls began to close in on the hyperventilating author. "What did it say?!"

"I think you should be reading this yourself."

Grabbing the letter from Nate's hands, L stomped over to the window on his left side full of shining sunshine and Greenwood trees looming towards the apartment in a lush display of branches and leaves. The children skipping down the sidewalk and lovers holding hands on the pavement below were ignored as all L could really see was the piece of paper within his hands and the beautiful cursive writing which seemed to glare up at him with nothing but malignance.

Dear L…

Maybe it was better this way…

Or at least, better for them.

"Hey." L shifted his feet against each other as the door swung open and a pair of clear brown eyes widened in surprise.

"You came!" Light chuckled as he ran up to L before leaping into his unexpected embrace, throwing the dark-haired writer off of his equilibrium and onto his behind. Light appeared barely affected by the fall, smile still stretched along his lips. "I didn't think you would actually show!"

"Why?"

"No offense, but you're kind of the timid-flower type. I kind of feel like I should keep a hold on you… wouldn't want you to be blown away with the wind!" Once again showering the writer with peals of golden laughter, Light tightened his embrace around the disheveled man as the dingy hallway echoed with laughter. L himself nearly forgot about his aching bottom and channeled his energy into this one moment, a deep sort of nostalgia creeping in from the bottom of his wayward heart and keeping residence there. "C'mon inside. I'll make you a drink!"

"Oh… alright." Lamenting the loss of a lap full of bursting Light (the amount of puns he could make were almost inconceivable, really), L picked himself and dusted off his short trench coat, following after the excitable man.

"You don't have a preference of drink, do you?" L shrugged off his coat as he closed the door behind him, watching Light scurry from one side of his apartment to the other in bare seconds, the small kitchenette blocked by a large island and a series of cabinets boarded on the side.

"Err… If you have anything sweet…?" Sliding onto the couch, the dark-haired writer smiled awkwardly as he patted his legs with his hands, wondering if sitting his 'normal' way would freak his potential friend out more than necessary.

"Ah, a man with a sweet tooth." Grabbing varying sets of bottles, Light winked as L's face brightened up like a Christmas light. "I wouldn't have expected that from that bored expression permanently attached onto your face."

"Wait, wha-" Almost crashing onto the floor in a sudden fit of clumsiness, L winced as a couple books went flying onto the floor from the table just beside him. "Sorry, I just-"

"Relax! I'm just kidding…" Blinking as the dark-haired man awkwardly picked himself up and replaced the books back onto the tiny table beside him, Light wondered if this was just his luck of the draw. "Kind of."

"You have… a lot of pictures in your home." L pointed a the cluster of color and black and white photos hanging on just about every square inch of the brunette's walls, the light cerulean paint almost entirely covered by the random images of men, women, children, landscapes, and small collages…

"Well, we're both two of a kind, really. We both surround ourselves with our job and live it to the fullest." At the slightly confused look on L's face, Light brought the glass up to his lips as he tilted his head to the side. "I'm a photographer, obviously."

"I see. I suppose… I am a bit of a workaholic as well." Not noticing the hardening gleam in Light's eyes, L gently fingered the rim of the glass cradled in his hands, feeling somewhat… sad for a reason he cannot really place. "But writing doesn't seem to make me as happy as it used to. At least that is what my friend's tell me. And I suppose I can believe it."

"What about you?" L smiled, still slightly distorted from his own admission of discomfort and not quite knowing why. "Does photography make you happy?"

"It used to." Light answers easily, almost matching L's former tone in whimsy. "Things happen sometimes to change a person's wants in just moments of time. Whether people like to admit it or not, we're all secretly brash with our feelings, and just about everything is fleeting in its enjoyment."

"That's… a rather cynical way for you to think, considering you seem to enjoy life more than anyone I've met so far."

"I take what I can in stride, and learn whatever I can from my past mistakes and present fuck-ups. I've already learned the hard way what it's like to lose something dear, and to want something so badly that it hurts every fiber of your being, reminding you of what you're, inevitably, missing." L pushed forward as he swept the auburn hair out of his friend's liquid-like eyes, running like smooth honey, yet still as pure as a darkened amber stone. "But I know happiness, and I've seen and felt love for myself. Is it so wrong to want to drown in both spectrums of such emotions? To take in everything and wish to regret nothing?"

"No." L blushed as Light moved closer to his person, clear bright eyes pulling him closer and closer as the seconds bunched together. "I suppose you're incredibly brave in that aspect. Much more valiant than I ever could be, anyway."

Taking another swig of his drink, L closed his eyes as he laid back, the weight of the other's head falling down on his chest in what felt like a long lost memory. "At least you remember enough to make that decision."

"… What do you mean?"

"Nothing." L smiled as he felt himself be carried away by the music playing sweetly in his ear, and the young man buried deeply within his half-embrace. "Nothing at all."

"Tell me when, and we'll go to your house next time." The muttered whisper made L smile contentedly to himself as he realized that the man in his arms had committed himself to another future outing with the author without actually meaning to.

Filled with a peace he hadn't realized was never there to begin with, L dazed off into the land of his own dreams with last word set on his lips…

"… Ok."

But he didn't want to forget.

He wanted…

He wanted it back.

He wanted it all back.

The good…

The bad…

And everything in between.

"L, if you're going to come out of your house for a nice rebound, the first rule of said rebounding is to not look so damn depressed while doing so, damn it!"

"Considering the way he's dressed, I don't think that's possible." Mail pointed at the black dress shirt, black pants and black shoes (all things Light had gotten for him, once upon a time…) and almost gagged. "Jesus, are you going to a damn funeral after this, L?! We're at a bar to help you relax and have a good time, not watch someone choke on a damn pretzel and croak!"

"I'm fine." L snapped, blue eyes darkening with every step he took inside the establishment they were currently housed within.

"L-"

"I said I'm fine." Strutting towards the bar, the unruly writer ignored the rampant looks from both males and females alike and sat himself down on one of the lean bar stools, not even trying to gain the bartender's attention as the multitude of people begging for drinks drowned out his friend's hollers and pleas.

After that, L couldn't say how much time passed as random people attempted to chat with him, and he brushed every single one of them off with a cold shoulder and bored gaze. Drink after drink (after awhile, all the alcohol began to burn in the exact same way…) went by, and L's lifeless gaze only became all the deader.

"Heard Light sent you a letter." Jumping at the sound of his friend's familiar voice, L almost fell off his seat as a blur of cornflower yellow and metallic blue was propped up beside him, jade green eyes the only real visible thing on his companion's face after being so inebriated for who knows how long.

"News travels fast." Another drink appeared before him as the one sitting in his hand all but disappeared, the bartender nodding before he could say a word. "Damn Nate and his big ass mouth…"

"C'mon, don't blame it on the cute little albino! It's not his fault nobody taught him how to lie as a child."

"Don't care."

"For someone who refuses to move on, you sure don't care a whole lot about a lot of things." Ignoring Mihael's blatant (and annoying, did he mention annoying?) sarcasm underneath the roar of the crowd, L worked on downing his drink as slowly as possible. "Now tell me, where did you hide your new memento, since you've so obviously moved on. Under the pillow, or in your unused sock drawer?"

"What memento? If you're talking about the letter," L slurred, eyes now rimmed a bright red, "I threw the damn thing out."

Mihael scoffed, catching onto L's bullshit in a matter of seconds.

"I'm not mentally retarded like more than half the people in this damn bar, L. I know you kept the damn letter. Now why don't you stop torturing yourself and just give yourself some peace of mind, yeah?" Not taking his friend's 'confused' glance the least bit seriously, Mihael got up, the circling lights dancing off his royal blue shirt and sea-green eyes rather spectacularly. "You should write to him. I know you want to."

"He hates me." The author nearly wailed, voice drowned out by the load bustling music and shouts of patrons dancing around them.

"He wouldn't have written to you if he did. He wouldn't have given you another thought or the last three years of his life, for that matter, if all that existed was hate." Mihael gave the man a pitying glance before laying his hand on his shoulder and sighing. "You're living in your own personal Hell, L… and the only person you really have to blame for it is yourself."

But he knew it was just wishful thinking on his part to expect such a present.

The darkness, after all, wasn't a very forgiving entity.

And all he could do-

Was watch it all slip away.

(It was the more than just love… at least, that's what I've always wanted to believe.)