Chapter Twooo! :D

So, I'm aware this could all be one chapter, but I reeeaally don't want to re-upload this story again. Its silly that I lose all of the reviews/followers every time I want to change one bitty thing! Gah!

Okay, well enough ranting. Anyways, thank you so much to everyone who favorited/alerted. It means so much to me. But feel free to leave a review. Pretty please. :3

I would love constructive criticism or comments/questions on the story. Not sure when the next chapter will be out, hopefully soon. It's pretty much whenever I feel like writing. Eheh.

Anyways, enjoy!

Disclaimer: I don't own Death Note. Obviously. -.-

I don't need a hero.

Light-kun believes he is above having one to look up to or help him in his time of need. 9%.

Light roughly flipped to his other side in the bed he lay in. The bed he shared. With an eccentric detective who believed him to be a world famous serial killer. Oh what a life.

Why did I say that? Light thought irately. L finally let himretire to his bed at around 3 in the morning, and now he was wasting his precious sleeping time thinking about that damn detective.

Said detective was on the other side of the bed curled into his nest of pillows sleeping like a damned baby.

After his little fight with L, it felt like his spirit had left his body, too weary to even try to hold his emotions together. He simply went back to mindlessly scanning data until L finally allowed him to go up to their room. He didn't change or take care of his nightly activities, just lay down on the bed and closed his eyes.

The detective gave him a questioning look while nibbling on his little thumb and settling in to work on his laptop. Light thought he would just sleep and maybe feel something the next day, but as soon as he began to get comfortable, his spirit returned, pissed.

So here he lay going over his conversation with that damn detective, wondering why those irritating depthless eyes make him say things he doesn't plan or even fully understand.

I don't think I'm above having a hero. Light thought angrily. No matter what L says. I just— heroes are for kids. Kids can believe in something without doubt or worry, but how could I ever hold someone so high when people are so obviously flawed. I mean, I'm proud of my dad and I love him, but he works for a system that is so flawed, I couldn't consider him my hero. If someone were to be my hero and they failed? No, it's not that I believe I'm too good to have a hero; it's more like I couldn't allow someone to fail me like that.

Light turned back around in the blankets to see L's face. Right next to his. Light inhaled sharply as his heart flew in his chest.

L had wriggled his head through the hole in his blankets he kept for the chain and over to Light's side of the bed, his nose less than two inches from Light's.

Damn you L. You just mess me up in every way! Light thought shakily, slowly moving his head back and letting out a sigh as his heart slowed. He noticed the way his breath blew the detective's bangs out of his face to reveal his face the most astounding expression Light had ever seen on him. Light nearly choked. It was the most adorable thing he'd ever seen.

The detective had his head snuggled into Light's pillow, the midnight strands of his hair in a messy disarray, his face soft and innocent, all the lines of tension gone from his face, and his tiny little pink tongue sticking out just a bit.

If ever there was a person who looked like a kitten…

Light let his bangs cover his eyes. He didn't want to see that expression anymore. An expression that would only make Light love L even more…

Whoa whoa! Did I just say…love him? What the hell was that mind? The man clearly hates my guts and now you're telling me I freaking love him!

Light shook his head at his cruel psyche.

So basically, Light thought, trying to straighten out his thoughts so he could clearly see the utterly depressing state of his life, I'm being accused of being a mass-murderer, and even I'm not sure if I did it (though I think I'd remember something like that, damn L), by the man I love, who happens to be intent on proving said accusation and most likely watching with relish as I die.

Well as long as that's all straightened out. Light then buried his face in the pillow trying to pretend that it wasn't himself in this predicament. He pretended that he was lying next to his love in bed, in a sweet little home on the corner. Tomorrow he would wake up, give him a kiss, then head out to—. Light's fantasy was then interrupted by the picture of him giving L a quick kiss before heading off to work. L was comically dressed in an apron and slippers, cooking pancakes and bacon.

I can't even pretend to live my life without him. Damn how did this get so far without my knowledge? Light quickly played through his time with L. Sometimes he would be staring at L for hours instead of working without even noticing. And occasionally, their hands would bump trying to grab the remote or something and Light's heart would race and a sweet pink color would spread over his soft cheeks.

Well crap. This is just not good. Nothing good can come from loving L. The image of L's face when he told Light he would die came to his mind. Nothing good at all.

Light turned away from L. I don't need another incident like today. L is going to want to know what happened. Light briefly contemplated telling L the reason for his death-like behavior, the roll of nausea that churned in his stomach and the cold sweat that left his hands clammy easily decided that was not a good idea.

Grin and bear it until this awful case is over it is. Then… then I won't have to see L anymore. His heart clenched painfully. His body reacted too easily to his emotions. That's why L rejecting me would kill me. He though dully. Maybe if I can just get through this case, I can live through never seeing L again. His body sent another flicker of pain through him. Light slowly turned his head to peek at L's face. The pain became more than a flicker. He tightly shut his eyes again and willed himself to imagine life. Imagine it as a good life, with no pain. Light fell asleep to the image of a wasteland with no escape in his brain.