Hi everyone! Most of you were freaking out on Wednesday because the morse code de-translators weren't working, so, for the record, L taps "I love you, Light-kun."

The review reply feature is still completely screwed up, so thanks to everyone who reviewed :)

Disclaimer: I own nothing, except the words on the page.

So, here's the tenth :)

10. Sort of

You first kissed him yesterday, and so you don't know how you got here so fast. But here you are, and here he goes. His breath is hot on your face like a dog's panting, but it smells like sugar instead of dead rats. His hands are in your hair and grabbing onto handfuls of it, reigning you in, pulling you back to him, again. His half-lidded eyes close as he kisses you, but you don't close your eyes. How can you? You're too tired to even pretend to like the feeling of him so close, let alone enjoy his constant company. You kiss him back but it's not open-mouthed and your lips only move ever-so-slightly, more like the kiss of a married middle-aged man than a teenager. It's nothing exciting. It's not like you don't love him (you do, he is an angel), but you feel guilty every time you kiss him. He's never been in a relationship. You took all his firsts in less than a day. And, as if the guilt wasn't exhausting enough, now he's like a puppy. Never been pet before, but now that he's felt it once it's as if it's all the world to him, and for the past twenty-four hours he's been constantly "rubbing up against your feet," constantly expecting to feel your affection in new and exciting ways. He wants and wants and wants.

You want, too. You want the feeling of his hands in your hair and his breath on your face. But you also want him. You want his quirky eccentricities and his bland comments on your attire. You want him to be the same person he was two days ago, with the added bonus of being in love with you.

You don't want him to be so inhumanly desperate.

Of course, it doesn't work that way. And now he's staring up at you with that heart-shattering 'Did I do something wrong?' expression. 'No, no, you didn't do anything wrong,' you want to say, 'it's me...'

He scoots away and bites his thumb, eyebrows pulled up in worry as he stares at the carpet. "I'm sorry," he mumbles.

You don't want him to be so inhumanly desperate, but he's desperate for you. How can you deny him when he is desperate for you?

You take a deep breath (because this is your last breath of fresh air) and say, "No, don't be sorry. You're an angel." You smile even though it's obviously fake and he is so thirsty for your love that he believes it, nuzzling lovingly into your side as your arms wrap around him and you kiss his hair. Even though you've been touching him for hours and hours, he doesn't get tired of it.

He loves you.

"I love you." you say, and you make sure he hears, because you know that will make him feel wonderful. And, anyway, it is true. Sort of.

This one was based on the Ingrid Michaelson song "Sort Of", which is AMAZING, by the way. And I've been waiting to post this one for so long, so I hope you guys like it :)

Also, I think that next week I will be posting a five-chapter arc about what might've happened if Watari died, naturally, earlier on than he did in canon. It kinda sucks now, but I'll be editing it :) What do you think?

Drop a review, please :)