Curiosity by saki-enshou
Disclaimer: Death Note does not belong to me.
Notes: Just a little tweaking with Naomi's obvious great faith in L.
Summary: Naomi takes idolatry to the next level.
Naomi waits for Raye in the hotel room they share, and while she does this her thoughts wander to another to pass the time. It's not an act of betrayal: Naomi loves Raye and she knows they will one day get married and have kids and—how do the fairy tales say it again?—live happily ever after, and her thoughts aren't exactly romantic fantasies of another man. Well, another man, yes, whom she does fantasize about, but she does this with something that can be called detachment in a sense that there is an absence of romantic, and lustful, feelings. It's something like the connoisseur's enthrallment over a newfound masterpiece—well, perhaps, in her limited knowledge of those matters. It's just that the room is so familiar she feels she knows its every corner, and Raye has left his mark here (white hotel slippers stashed on one corner; used jacket draped over back of chair), and thinking of them means thinking of Raye, and thinking of Raye is like thinking of that other man. And anyway, they're just fantasies of an adult woman, never to be taken seriously even by the woman herself, and they're actually more for something that she cannot name but which certainly can't be amusement, even though that is part of it, because it's too…
heartless—inhuman—something
to think of anyone like that. It's simply the reason or non-reason of her fantasies and what she feels for this other man. Intrigue, maybe, we can call it that for lack of a better word.
Naomi thinks of L that way. Naomi admires L and L is intriguing and mysterious and Naomi finds this intrigue and mystery attractive, so much that L is not anymore just the low voice sharing remarkable insights and giving directions. Naomi wonders what sort of face L would have, would he have a strong jaw or a soft one like a woman's, what color his eyes are, how his throat would move when he gulps down whatever it is he likes to drink, how his clothes would fall on his frame. And Naomi has her ideas, of course. She likes to think L is fair-skinned and tall, and good-looking, not pretty like the way they do men in Hollywood but handsome in an intelligent kind of way, the kind that looks good with glasses. He would be older, and quiet and congenial and fun, with lots of interesting things to say that would keep both of you awake all night. And he would have a firm chest and strong arms and hands, and she likes to imagine how they would feel against her skin.
L feels distant and close. Naomi sometimes feels she knows him, and hell, she can picture him walking around his house or apartment, and she thinks she knows what time he gets up in the morning and how long he sleeps, what kind of food he prefers for breakfast. But it's his back she sees, and in the rare occasion she's given his front, his eyes are always in shadow. It's hard to explain, she somehow can't find it in her to create a face for him even with her ideas. Or maybe because of them. She just knows.
The door opens and Raye walks in. He takes off his coat, and she stands up and leaves the book she has been pretending to read on the table face-down and open, and prepares to make coffee. She asks Raye about his day, and the conversation soon moves to other matters.
Then Raye gets up and approaches her, and she sees the eagerness in his eyes. She allows him to lead. He kisses her and clothes soon litter the floor, and thoughts of L dissolve. And they finish and Raye, spent, rolls off her and lies flat on his back. Then Raye gets up for a shower, as is his custom. After ten minutes the steady hiss of water from the bathroom stops, the sheets shift and the bed creaks at the additional weight and he settles beside her. She moves closer and rests her head on the curve of his shoulder, and his arm encircles her waist. He kisses her hair. She knows before it comes. And she thinks of Raye and how he feels and smells and the kind of life they'll share, and she thinks of L and sees him sleeping, and wonders what his dreams are.
End