Content warning: brief mention of rape/sexual assault.
What do I owe to you
Who loved me deep and long?
You never gave my spirit wings
Nor gave my heart a song.
But oh, to him I loved,
Who loved me not at all,
I owe the little open gate
That led through heaven's wall.
Debt, Sarah Teasdale
Misa had never been in that type of pain before. Her entire body felt as though she'd been ran over by a truck. She was weak, achey, and according to her doctors, the concussion would leave her feeling foggy and confused for a few days at least. She would also have to wait several weeks on her broken and bruised ribs to heal.
Every deep breath she took felt like someone stabbing into her side. She was told multiple times how lucky she was that it wasn't worse. She had to stop herself from snapping at a nurse who kept insisting that Misa was fortunate. They hadn't gotten their head bashed and thrown in the back of a van by a strange man.
She tried not to think too hard about it.
Matsuda carried her bag from the hospital. She was a little embarrassed that earlier he had to go out and buy her clothes to wear from it, since her little black dress from the date ended up covered in dirt and blood. He didn't seem to mind however, and acted especially protective over her-which she found endearing.
He lead her into L's apartment, constantly turning to ask if she needed anything, maybe they should have gotten a wheelchair for her and was she sure she was feeling alright?
"I'm fine." She reassured him. "I'm just tired."
It was hard to get any rest. Her mind ricocheted from gratitude towards L and feeling panicked that she was almost taken. If L hadn't been there...
I can't focus on that. He was there. He saved me. She only wished he would have come to see her while she was in the hospital. Matsuda said he did, but he never came in to talk to her. She wanted to thank him, to tell him what it meant to her, what it was like seeing him open the door and carry her away. It was the only memory from that event she would cherish.
Matsuda helped her to the couch in L's living room. Her new home for the foreseeable future. She figured as much afterwords. She wouldn't be able to live alone until her stalker was caught. She didn't mind. She hated the thought of being left alone at the moment.
L walked out from the master bedroom, his arms full of folded clothes. He paused at the sight of her. She wondered how bad she must look. She tucked her hair behind her ear nervously.
He opened his mouth to speak, but the sound of quick footsteps clicking on marble tiles alerted them to Naomi's arrival.
Her eyes moved from Misa sitting on the couch to L. Her mouth was set in a thin line and there was a fire behind her eyes.
Misa started to say hello, but Naomi walked past her and slapped L hard across the face.
"Naomi!" Misa cried out in shock, hand clutching at her side in agony as she jolted up. L staggered slightly, dropping the clothes to the ground. Matsuda gawked at her, edging away and excusing himself, wisely deciding not to get involved.
"Just what the hell are you good for?" She yelled. "How could you let this happen?"
Misa winced as she tried sitting up. "Naomi wait-"
She ignored her.
"You should have protected her!" She hissed. "You said she'd be safe!"
L's face was still turned away from when she slapped it, a red mark now appearing.
"Please don't fight! It's not his fault." Misa said weakly, "Really, how could he have known-"
"No, she's right, it is my fault." L said quietly. "I take full responsibility. I should have been more careful."
Naomi still glared at him, nostrils flaring in anger. "Put me on your team. I don't trust you to do this alone."
Misa felt a knot tie in her stomach as L responded, sounding surprised. "You'll come out of retirement?"
"No, Naomi," Misa pleaded. "You quit for a reason right? Please don't do this just for me!"
Naomi finally turned to Misa. All the fire was extinguished leaving concern there in its place.
"I can't stand by and watch you get hurt again."
Misa bit her lip, trying to keep herself from getting upset. Already too many people were putting themselves in harms way to keep her safe. It was too much. She was becoming more and more of a burden on everyone she cared about.
Seeming to read her mind, Naomi sat with her, speaking more kindly. "Think of it this way. He's not only hurt you, he's hurt other women too. Your coworkers, remember? He won't quit until someone stops him. The more of us looking for him, the better."
But Misa couldn't just see it that way. Maybe she was being selfish, but she thought of her family, taken away from her too soon, leaving her alone to figure everything out. She had so few people in her life that she cared for. And they were all getting involved with something that was becoming increasingly more dangerous. Her head was beginning to pound.
"I'm tired." She said wearily. "I need to lay down."
Naomi nodded, her brow still creased in concern. L pointed to the master bedroom he'd just come from.
As Naomi helped her up, Misa glanced at L who stood there awkwardly, staring at her. She wanted the chance to speak to him alone, but her head wasn't cooperating. I'll have time. She thought. I'm basically living with him now.
After a fitful and restless few hours in bed Misa woke up. Despite the mountain of pillows she used to cradle her injured side, she still ached every time she took a deep breath. It was a few days after the attack and her headaches were finally starting to subside, and she didn't feel as foggy or forgetful. She stood in the huge master bathroom after her shower, carefully pulling back her hair to look at the gash more fully in the mirror, wincing. There were several neat stitches on it that she'd get taken out the next day at the doctor. She needed to put more cream on it which wouldn't be so bad if she didn't have to raise her arms to do it, causing her muscles to tug against her injured side.
She thought of asking L for help, but given how distant he'd been towards her over the past couple of days she thought better of it. I'll just do it later.
She padded back out into the bedroom. L had been gracious enough to have her stay there rather than one of the guest bedrooms. He assured her he hardly slept in there. Still, she was a little embarrassed.
She pulled a pair of black leggings from the drawer, noticing L had left some of his own clothing behind. A neatly folded pile of white shirts. She pursed her lips, pulling one out.
Is this really the only shirt he owns? It was soft though, and loose. The clothes she had Naomi bring from Misa's apartment fit her too snugly, more built for sexiness rather than comfort. And since she wasn't exactly in the right state to be sexy, she needed to prioritize comfort. She pulled L's shirt gingerly over her head, careful to avoid exerting herself too much. It was long on her, falling past her thighs. She pushed back the sleeves, looking in the full length mirror that leaned against the opposite wall. She couldn't help but smile a little. Something about wearing something of his felt intimate and warm.
She opened the door peeking out. L's office was dark, which meant that he was gone again. After Naomi left a few days before, he'd mumbled about needing to get work done and disappeared. Where he spent most of the week she wasn't sure, but she was starting to get lonely being in the apartment by herself all the time. She tried keeping herself busy with watching TV, checking her phone constantly, but with even Naomi busy now, she was growing bored. At least he had the sense to make sure to stock real food in the kitchen now.
The penthouse was quiet. The sky outside now dark. She made a habit of napping throughout the day to pass time and as a result hadn't eaten since that morning. Maybe I'll make a snack...
As she headed to the kitchen however, past the living room she froze.
There was a man was laying on the couch.
He turned his head towards her as she stopped. "Ah Misa-Misa." He said, his tired voice having a somewhat teasing tone. "You look different with clothes on."
"Who are you?" She whispered. Her heart sputtering into action. I left my phone in the room I'm so stupid-
His head turned, as if he was confused by her reaction for a moment before he quickly spoke again. "I forgot you've got someone after you. I promise I'm not him." He raised his hands in mock defeat. "I'm L's brother, Mello."
She breathed out a sigh of relief, hand pressing over her pounding heart. "You should have said so sooner!"
He shrugged. "I told you I wasn't your stalker."
Yeah, that's very reassuring. She thought despairingly.
While he didn't look anything like L, with his honeyed hair and more obvious European features, they both had the same dark, pronounced under eye circles. She wondered if all the men in his family had something against a good nights sleep. He also dressed completely different from L, all black, leather and edge.
She walked over cautiously, sitting down on the loveseat across from him. She was so interested in people who knew L. With Watari still gone she had no one to talk to. I wonder if he'll mind.
"Um, are you waiting for him to get back or something?" She asked curiously.
"Oh he's not here?" He said, looking mildly surprised, nodding his head towards the room she came from. "I assumed he was in there with you."
Her face burned. "What? Of course not! Why would he be?"
A knowing smile lit up his face, he tucked his arms behind his head. "Oh did I hit a sore spot? Well, don't worry. I've seen him sleep with tons of his clients. You're probably just too beat up to mess around with."
Her mouth fell open in shock. This guy is nothing like L! He laughed at her expression. "Don't look so offended. I'm just surprised that he hasn't already."
"Well he hasn't. He's very professional." She shot back at him acerbically, not at all wanting to admit she was the one always trying to make a move on him. "Why are you here?"
"I just got back from a photoshoot, thought I'd take a nap before asking L something." He yawned, stretching his body with a grunt. "I thought I'd just have to sit there looking pretty for 20 minutes. Instead they had me there for hours trying on clothes, taking pictures. They want me back in another hour or so, but I skipped out..."
"You're a model?" She asked doubtfully. He definitely wasn't terrible looking, he had a certain appeal to him-if you ignored his crappy attitude, but she found the idea strange. Not that L would ever mention It to her.
"Should I tell you?" He mused, mostly to himself. "I'm not sure. It's top secret stuff."
He seemed to enjoy holding information over her head. She rolled her eyes. "I'll find out anyway." Now that Naomi was helping L she planned on getting every bit of information she could from her.
He nodded, seeming to weigh the likelihood of that happening. "Maybe. I guess I can tell you a little bit."
He swung himself up suddenly and smiled widely, "I just started at Facade. I think you've heard of it."
Her agency?
"What for?" She asked slowly.
"Undercover." He said, his tone smug. "L wants me to get information on why someone would be stalking you."
Oh. That made a little sense. Still, she wondered why his attitude towards her was so hostile. "Obviously this guy is just a creep who wants to date me, right?"
He scoffed. "That's dismissive. There's lots of creeps who don't stalk women. And you're not any more special than the other models I met today. In fact, there's quite a few I personally find very-."
"Do you just like to insult people or something?" She interrupted annoyed. Not five minutes talking to him and she was already disliking the guy immensely. He had a self important aura to him she was finding more and more off putting.
"Do you want to know why I don't stalk women?" He asked, ignoring her jab.
"Why?" She asked sarcastically.
"I don't need to." He said confidently. "If a woman doesn't have something I want, I move on."
"Okay and my stalker is...?"
"He's after something. It probably doesn't make sense, especially to the average person. They're never as logical as they think they are, and they always think they're geniuses, but he's locked on to you of all people. We need to know why."
At least so far he seemed smart like L. But he was also wild and tactless. Where L was more measured and careful, Mello had a fierce tenacity to him. It was interesting that the two of them were close enough to consider one another family. She could now see why Watari said L wasn't any worse than his brothers. She couldn't imagine the headaches that one caused.
"Just how many brothers does L have?" she asked curiously. She watched as he leaned back into the sofa, another self assured grin on his face.
"That means he hasn't told you." He said shaking his head. "Sorry, brotherly bonds outweigh a clients curiosity."
She pursed her lips. So irritating. "Whatever I don't care then."
He stared at her strangely for a moment, tilting his head as if he was trying to figure something out. She felt self conscious under his scrutiny. Something about it made her feel as if he was able to see things she didn't want him to, make connections without seeing the whole picture. The last thing she wanted him to know was how she felt for L.
He jerked his head up at her forehead. "You should take care of that or it'll leave a scar."
"I'm fine." She sniffed. "I'll take care of it later."
"Don't be stubborn." He got up with a heavy sigh and grabbed the first aid kit Naomi had brought sitting on the coffee table. He squeezed some antibacterial cream onto a finger.
Alarmed, she sat back feeling wary. She wanted to stop him or tell him she was fine again. Especially since she didn't much care for the proximity, or his sudden, odd bout of kindness.
"How did you learn about my brother?" He asked, dabbing the cream lightly along her forehead with his ring finger.
"Top secret." She muttered.
He stopped and looked at her pointedly.
"He helped me out a few years ago okay?" She said, dodging the question. "Watari introduced us."
He nodded, something in his expression told her he was making more of those connections. "I'm just not used to seeing him like that." Speaking again more to himself than her.
This piqued her interest. "Like what?"
But just then, L walked in. She hadn't heard him enter, too absorbed in her bickering with his brother. He paused at the sight of the two of them. Misa felt her stomach summersault inside of her. She missed him.
"There you are." Mello said, his voice bored as he continued to apply the cream to her head, "Someone has to take care of your woman."
She glared up at him, trying to smack his hand away as she blushed furiously.
"I'm not his woman. Thanks."
He stood back shrugging, tossing the tube back into the box on the table.
"There. Can't mar your only valuable asset."
My only valuable-What a jerk! His attitude towards her made no sense. He bounced back and forth from being friendly to being a complete asshole. Is this what having a brother is like?
"I hope L's other brothers a lot are nicer than you." She said haughtily.
He gave her an angelic smile as he spoke, his dark voice going sickly sweet. "You'll never meet them so it doesn't matter."
That stung. She gave him a reproachful glare. He knew exactly how to wound her, and she was right; He definitely saw more than she wanted him to see. He could tell she had feelings for L. What she didn't understand, was why he seemed to resent her for it.
L watched the exchange before speaking, his smooth expression blank.
"I have your new manager here."
Mello smiled, "Good. Glad I'll be useful unlike some-"
But the blood drained from his face. "Shit."
Someone had entered behind L. A beautiful looking woman in a tight black pencil skirt and turtleneck. She had sharp eyes and red lips that were currently curved into a graceful smile as her eyes landed on Mello.
"What're you doing here?" He asked incredulously. His eyes darted between the two of them in disbelief.
"Mihael." She said, her voice crisp and businesslike. "Good to see you again."
"Unbelievable!" He said angrily, turning to L. "Why her?"
"Who is it?" Misa asked mystified. Mihael?
Mello spoke through gritted teeth. "My parole officer."
Misa tried unsuccessfully to hold back the small giggle that bubbled up in her throat, her hand covering her mouth. Mello glared at her.
"I needed someone reliable to make sure you're not going off on your own." L said casually. "You wanted to be useful, did you not?"
"She'll send me back the moment she gets the chance! You understand that right?" Mello spat, his eyes wide with indignation.
"Halle has promised to hold off on extraditing you to the US if you help me on this case. However, If you decide to mess around and make any mistakes, she has full authority to do just that."
"You have another photoshoot in an hour." She said checking her phone. "I'm here to escort you."
Mello looked utterly humiliated and Misa reveled in it. After his bizarre treatment of her she was grateful for the beautiful angel who seemed to give him so much grief. Serves you right.
He grabbed the jacket hanging on the end of the couch with an aggressive swipe. Throwing another annoyed look at Misa before following the woman out, his boots stomping.
"What a baby!" She said laughing. Her hand instinctually holding her injured side. Her smile however fell slightly as L watched her.
They were alone for the first time in days. She smiled at him eagerly. He, however, already seemed to be looking for an exit.
"Wait-don't go yet!" She said quickly. She scanned around the room for an excuse to keep him there. She didn't understand why he was avoiding her.
Her eyes landed on his hands, his knuckles appearing to have several cuts on them.
"Ah I can take care of that!"
She grabbed the first aid kit, and dragged him to the couch, gently applying the antibacterial salve with her fingertips as lightly as possible, just as Mello did for her. He sat there passively while she worked.
She couldn't bring herself to look up at him, even though she could feel his gaze boring a hole in her. They hadn't been alone together since the attack. And holding his hand like that reminded her of the last time they held hands. She wondered if he was thinking about it too.
She applied the last small bandaid on his knuckles. They really didn't need it as they were already healing, but the task made her feel useful.
"I'm sorry you got hurt too." She said softly.
In response to this, he carefully took her arm and rolled the sleeve of her shirt up, revealing the black and purple bruises that stretched along it, mottling her pale skin from where her attacker had grabbed her and dragged her down the stairs.
He inspected them, his expression still smooth and unreadable.
She frowned. They were healing though, yellowing on the edges. Her doctor warned her they would get worse before they got better. She pulled at the shirt to cover them back up, remembering that it was his shirt she was wearing, but he didn't say anything about it.
She recalled what his brother had just told her. "I'm surprised he hasn't already..." So why hadn't he made a move on her then? Did he really sleep with his other clients? She could hardly imagine it. He never showed her any interest and It wasn't like she was hideous. What was stopping him when she was always so eager?
But she remembered before she kissed him, how he took her hands in his. And it also seemed like he did return her kiss, if only briefly. And when he saved her from her attacker, he looked scared. Like he did care, like he was relieved. More than just a detective glad his client wasn't dead. He looked at her now with something more. Was it possible then?
"Your brother told me that you- um" She paused, stuttering through it. "That you used to sleep with some of the people you worked for on cases?"
His head lifted slightly, listening as she spoke.
She continued, her face getting more red with every word. "That just made me wonder, why you don't...or why didn't you ever try anything with-with me? Like even back...then..."
He had leaned over her suddenly, careful not to put any pressure on her body, his long arms caging her in, gripping the couch on either side of her. She pressed herself back into the cushion with a small gasp, shocked by his sudden closeness.
"Is that what you think of me?" He asked, his voice oddly light and quizzical, his head dropped down, his warm breath near her neck, lips ghosting against her skin as he spoke. She shivered, holding as still as possible.
"You think I'd try to fuck the seventeen year old who just found the bodies of her murdered parents?"
Her pulse hammered in her chest at his words. She'd never heard him curse before. She felt a rush of intense remorse, and more horrifyingly, arousal course through her.
"N-no!" She tried, head tilted away, "I didn't mean-"
He pulled back to look her in the eyes. His were black, void of all light. His pale face unreadable, but she could feel the anger and disapproval radiating off of him. His eyes moved down to her lips and back up, he spoke again, his voice low.
"Or maybe you think now I'd try to take advantage of the same woman who was just beaten and thrown down a flight of stairs?"
"No I-I don't-" She stuttered out, overwhelmed by how close he was, and against the rational side of her brain, still insanely, inappropriately, turned on. He was so close, she could smell his skin and whatever soap he used, feel the warmth of him over her, see the slight, barely visible grazing of stubble along his jawline. She sincerely wished she wasn't hurt, she wished he would take advantage of her. She didn't care how it sounded, at least, part of her didn't.
She raised a shaking hand up, wanting to touch his face, reassure him. "I'm sorry-"
His jaw clenched and he pushed himself back up before she could.
"Don't listen to my brother and don't compare me to-."
He stopped turning away with a steadying sigh. "Nevermind. Goodnight Misa."
She watched him leave. She could hear him pressing buttons on the elevator. Finally she was left alone. Again. Shame wasn't a good enough word for how she felt. What is wrong with me? She didn't mean to insinuate that he was a bad guy. Not really. She just wondered if he really slept with his clients why was she any different? Why did he keep her away? She cringed, thinking of exactly what she said.
"Why didn't you try anything with me back then?"
How else would he react? Of course he wouldn't try to hit on her back then. She knew that. And Mello probably lied to get a reaction out of her and she fell for it. She smacked her hands to her face. What was I thinking. She was going about it all wrong again.
There had to be something there though. She could feel it when they were together, he must too. That's why he never wants to be alone with me. Did he still think of her like how she was when they met? That she was still broken and fragile? She needed to clear it up with him and apologize again, and maybe there was a chance he'd see she wasn't seventeen anymore.
L sat at Watari's large oak desk, his temporary space since having Misa stay. Watari would be back tomorrow and L would have to find some other place to make an office, somewhere far from Misa. His eyes barely focused on the screen before him, long past being able to get any real work done. He hadn't slept in a while and it was quickly catching up to him.
Naomi dropped a manila folder on the desk with a slap.
"I'm not sorry for hitting you." She said bluntly.
"Of course not." He murmured. "I agreed with you."
"I think she loves you." Naomi said, almost accusingly. "I know how you can be. Don't get distracted and don't lead her on."
"That was never my intention."
"She's been through a lot." She continued, ignoring him, "I don't know what case you helped her with before but-"
"Her parents were murdered."
Naomi looked startled, "What?"
"She was seventeen. Both died due to exsanguination, multiple stab wounds. Misa was the one to find them."
Naomi slid slowly into chair opposite of the desk, looking horrorstruck. "What happened?"
"She tried to perform CPR, but it was too late. She was covered in their blood. She found the knife used in the attack outside the entrance to the home and picked it up without thinking. She was immediately implicated. She admitted to having an argument with them that night. She was out late seeing a boyfriend. They didn't approve. Watari told me about the case when I was visiting Japan. I wasn't interested in taking it at first...but I eventually stepped in."
Naomi looked stricken, but listened without interrupting him.
"I was able to track the man down. A serial rapist. Mostly middle school girls. Misa was certainly older than his usual type...but she looked younger than her age back then."
Here he paused, fiddling with the spoon in his coffee, his gaze unfocused.
"He'd watch them for a time, get to know their schedules before he'd sneak in and sexually assault them, repeatedly in their own homes. He wore a mask, so victims could never recall his face. Misa snuck out the night he planned to attack her. He came in, enraged that he couldn't have her and he took that rage out on her parents. The first and only time he killed. Her father was found outside of her bedroom door. It is believed he died trying to protect her, thinking her to still be in the home."
He remembered Watari going in the interrogation room, talking to her gently. Urging her to eat, to rest, making sure she was comfortable. He had a certain way of talking to people when they were scared to calm them, to ease them into listening. It stretched back into L's childhood. He recalled Watari talking to him precisely in that manner as well, the day he came to the orphanage.
When L met to speak with Misa again after their first meeting, she had a very specific sort of misery in her eyes. He recognized it at once.
"We need to go over some details again." He said, after Watari settled them across from one another, in a more secluded interrogation room. L didn't bother saying it was nice to see her again, under the circumstances it was anything but. She nodded slowly, her eyes far away. He doubted she even remembered his name.
By the end of his second round of questioning, her eyes still had that same glazed look. The fiery spirit he saw in her before dwindled down into muted embers that threatened to extinguish entirely. When she spoke, her voice came out as a rasp.
"I should have come home sooner." She said blankly. "Then I'd be-"
"Dead." L finished for her. She looked up at him, and nodded. "Yes. I'd be dead."
"Then we wouldn't have your valuable insight to find the man responsible. There's no use thinking like that."
"You think this is better for me?" She'd asked, her voice barely above a whisper. More tears spilling from her bloodshot eyes. "I'm alone. I wanna be with them."
Her voice was weak as she spoke, the pain in it palpable. "Neither of my parents had siblings. My grandparents died years ago. I'm alone."
L wasn't one for thinking about life after death. Never found the need to. He preferred living in the here and now, if not just a few steps ahead when needed. But looking at the girl in front of him he could see her future clearly, or rather lack thereof. She had one foot already in the grave. He'd seen it before, and felt a variation of it himself before. The type of grief that threatened to pull someone down prematurely, the desperate longing to sleep beside the bones and decay that left them behind.
"Your parents wouldn't want you to think that way surely."
More tears leaked from the corners of her eyes. "The last thing we did was argue."
"So you should die too?" He challenged. Her mouth had trembled as if she was confessing some unforgivable, egregious sin. An argument? Even he knew that an argument wouldn't make them feel that way. She looked down at her lap, her eyes squeezed shut.
"I didn't know them, but I know they wouldn't want that for you." He said firmly, with conviction. "No good parent wishes for that. You should stay alive to honor that and-" he paused before adding: "...because you deserve to."
She lay her head on the table before her, arms crossed over her head, and heaved with sobs.
He was never very good at comforting people when they cried. Was he supposed to touch them? Hug them? Leave them alone? He remembered when he was a child the younger children, his brothers especially, would always come to him when they were crying, with stubbed toes and scraped knees. He never understood it, but they'd sit there with him, their eyes and noses running. He was unsure of how to help beyond putting a bandaid on and giving them an awkward pat. Their sniffles would eventually subside and they'd thank him, running off too quickly and surely ending up injured again. Watari would probably say something about his presence being enough, L wasn't sure. But in the case of Misa Amane he hoped it was, because there weren't any words, not in any language he knew, sufficient enough to truly quell grief.
Naomi wiped her tears with the back of her hand. She closed her eyes. "Why did she never tell me?"
Brought back to the present, L shrugged a shoulder, still stirring his coffee absentmindedly. "I couldn't tell you, but please trust me when I say I don't want to put her through any worse than what she's already been through. I've seen firsthand how she's suffered."
"She never said." Naomi said thickly through her tears. "I don't understand, why not even mention it?"
"I had the records sealed. Her request. Maybe she wanted to move on as if nothing happened. I think she must have grown up overnight then. Or perhaps she just didn't want to relive it by repeating it."
He leaned towards the latter, she seemed to compartmentalize her life quite well. Whether that was necessarily healthy was another thing. So it was confusing to him why she ever reached out to him again. Why over the years before this case, she had tried so hard to get a hold of him. To find out how he was, to try to reconnect. Surely he had to remind her of that terrible time in her life.
But she probably saw him differently.
She only idolized him because he caught the man who killed her parents. It was that thought alone that kept him from ever eagerly returning her touches, her smiles, her glances. Shockingly, he realized, it wasn't just about sparing her feelings, but his too.
Because what if he did return them? How quickly would she realize her infatuation with him was simply because he listened? That he only showed her the absolute bare minimum of care that she deserved? He needed her to want more, to expect more from people. It was even worse since he stopped her attacker, because she didn't see it like he did-as his utter failure and gross underestimation of her stalker-but instead like he saved her. She looked at him like the sun shined from him. Her gratitude was making her delusional.
Because no one looked at him like that.
His stomach flipped, his mouth went dry. He couldn't bare to be around her. It was worse when they were alone and she inevitably got closer to him. That strange magnetism she had for him. Her small hands delicately bandaging his like he was actually hurt. Like she wasn't the one wincing every time she took a breath. Like she wasn't the one covered in bruises because he failed.
He briefly wondered if he'd gone overboard by hiring Lidner to babysit Mello, but now that he knew exactly what types of conversations his dear brother was having with Misa, he no longer worried. He'd argue that he simply valued his privacy and that's why he kept her from knowing that part of him, but really he hated the idea of her being disappointed in him.
His hands rubbed over the bandages on his knuckles, fingers peeling up the edges. But did it matter? Wouldn't it be for the best if she found out sooner? Maybe he'd need to do just that. Rip the bandaid off for the both of them.
A ringing phone stirred him from his rumination. Naomi was digging through her purse for her cell phone. He'd almost forgotten she was there.
"Yeah...listen come down to the floor below. He's here...Yeah, I'll meet you out there."
He wouldn't even protest, there was no use. He knew Misa was the one calling.
"I think I understand now." Naomi said as she hung up, now standing to leave. "Why you're so hesitant with her. But, I think she deserves to understand too." She gave him a small nod before excusing herself.
A few minutes later there was a gentle tap at the door. Misa opened it hesitantly, peeking in. It always amazed him how young she looked without makeup on. She looked even more fragile than before. And he noticed, for the first time, what shirt she was wearing.
His.
"Oh this?" She said quickly, incorrectly assuming he was staring at the pillow she brought. "The doctor said it might help my rib if I carried one to hold against me. She was right, it helps! I look a little silly though. But it is comfortable. Too bad I can't walk around outside like this!"
She was babbling. One of her nervous habits. She tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear. Another nervous habit. He memorized them all. Her face took on that same reverent expression when she looked at him. Like he could do no wrong.
She sat down across from him. Under the soft glow of Watari's old yellowed lamps she looked warm, inviting. Sweet. What was a good comparison? Honey, cream, strawberries? He gnawed at his thumbnail. Even in his old shirt she looked beautiful. He became particularly distracted by her lips as she spoke. It would make what he was about to do even worse.
She cleared her throat. "About earlier, I shouldn't have just assumed your brother was right and that you would do something like that!" She said quickly, "I'm sorry for ever thinking you could. You have to know how much I care about you. I just want-."
"He was telling the truth." He said, his eyes raising to meet hers. "And you should know if I was ever interested in you, I would have tried by now."
Her brows creased for a fraction of a second, betraying the pain he caused her. He wondered if she'd cry, or argue, half wishing she would, because he had a sinking feeling it wouldn't take much to sway him. The moment the words left him he felt sick. He was used to lying, and never felt guilty about it before, but somehow now it felt wrong. More than dishonest, it was cruel.
But she didn't cry, she straightened back up in the chair, fixing her posture.
"Oh!" She said overly brightly, wincing slightly at the effort. "I must have really made you uncomfortable when I kissed you then, huh?" She said with a laugh, "I won't do that anymore."
L nodded taking a cursory sip of coffee he couldn't taste. "Good. I need to focus more on this investigation. I can't afford to be distracted. Watari returns tomorrow, if you need anything don't hesitate to ask him."
She nodded, bright smile still plastered on her face. "Oh good I've missed him. I'll do that. Well, I guess I'll get out of your way."
He'd already turned back to the laptop in front of him, pretending to be absorbed in the blank screen. But he watched her, from the corner of his eye, back out and close the door with a small click. He closed his eyes, breathing out a small sigh, feeling no relief.
It wasn't at all like ripping a bandaid off.
...now you know I HAD to pull out the ol' 'Wearing L's Shirt' trope. Had to. Absolutely had to. If you write an LxMisa fic it's required by law. Okay not really, I just think it's stupid cute...but also the pain I felt writing this one haha I'm so sorry :')
Ten chapters in aaah! This was one of those late updates I warned would happen, midterms hit and then one exam on top of another. But it's a bit longer than usual so I hope that makes up for it.
I also started working on that smutty one shot I mentioned. It's set in the DN universe with a couple small twists, so I'll let you guys know when I finish it.
Thanks again for your comments. I hope you're all having a lovely and spooky October! L's birthday is Halloween, so indulge in some sugar for him.