better than heart attacks
12: 4o seconds
Light didn't hate L - no, that would be a gross exaggeration on his part. Rather, he hated everything about him.
He hated how subtle lies, looks, questions could catch him so terribly off guard; break through his perfect, model student façade and poke around at the darker, deeper depths of his subconscious.
He hated his eyes, huge and blank and empty and staring. Always staring. Light could never discern whether those obsidian pupils were fixed upon Light or Kira; not knowing and second guessing.
He hated his voice, low and monotone despite the situation – blunt as always, so much so it hurt a little. ("Light-kun is my first friend" and then, later "I think I might be in love with Light-kun." And it always sounded exactly the same).
He hated his skin, how pale and ethereal it was. Oftentimes it seemed to glow, ashen and sickly, under the hum and glow of his computer. White, like snow in the early morning. And, just like snow, if you allowed yourself to become entangled, ensnared, entrapped, it would surely kill you.
He hated his fingers, the way they danced spider-like across his face, neck, shoulders, and how they grasped his hand when nobody was looking – a grasp that seemed tighter than iron. Metaphorical chains. Chains that cut and dug and stung so much Light had to check his wrists afterwards to make sure they weren't rubbed raw and bleeding.
He most especially hated it when Ryuk watched them; a grin twisted across his ugly lips, teeth far too sharp – syringes – as he gazed at the top of L's head and muttered "tick, tock…" It seemed to be a hobby of his, his bulbous shinigami eyes affixed to L as though he were a particularly delicious apple-
"Tick, tock…"
-and Light would hold L a little tighter, while Kira laughed demonically - barely human himself. A monster. A monster with a pretty face to hide behind; sometimes, when Light saw his reflection, it was hard to look past the pain and gore and redredred. Even had to flinch a little.
Kira was going to kill L. That much was obvious. Ryuk's narrow-eyed stares and evil laughter was proof enough of that – watching, waiting, counting. Counting his life away…
"Tick, tock…"
And, as Light held the insanely beautiful detective in his hands one last time, the only thing he could hear was the blood in his head, the beat of his heart and the steady tick, tick tocking of a clock.
Counting his life away…
a.n: i was listening to maximum the hormone whilst writing this. yay, shouting :D i think this collection is due for something lighthearted and au any chapter now… damn, this took like… 7 re-writes. –dies- its exact meaning is free for interpretation