Under his skin
Light feels the apparition. It is a physical visitation. There is the slightest tickling upon his skin, just like the tracing of fingers; it is the first touches that are the worst. It is the subtle way that the sheets shift their position that truly makes this man's blood run cold.
Sometimes there is light in the room, streaming in pale lines through the window. Then the room is full of shadows and, out of the corner of his eye, Light might see the smallest movement. There is no thrill higher then when, heart jerking and pumping right against his ribcage, he actually catches sight of a glittering in the shadows.
Mostly however it is physical. The touches run over his body while he lies still. He turns his head to one side as the touch runs over his throat. He shivers but forces himself still. Then the hands move down so gradually and then, then they slide into him, into his chest.
There are no words for how it feels to have those fingers underneath his skin.
It is deep, it is warm, it is real. The substance that Light feels is flesh, it is tangible.
When Light feels that warm flesh sublimate, those hard coarse fingers in the cavity of his chest. He flinches and throws himself up, thrashing out against the sheets, throwing his arms round –
- and they collide with nothing. There is only air. He shivers, his breath catching in hysterical little pants. He gibbers. He runs his hands franticly over his skin, harshly over and over trying to brush it away, get it off of his skin. There is nothing there.
He wakes Misa with his breathing, his movements, his panicked actions. She learns over to him, cooing, whispering, reaching out to paw over him to ask what is wrong. He pushes her away, his actions rough, his voice raised, cruel; panic rage.
Don't touch me! Don't touch me! He slaps her and shoves her away from him. She curls up quietly, her eyes upon her lover. He can feel her eyes on him while he hyperventilates. Her judging eyes.
And he can't calm. He can't. Not then.
His face in his hands, with the lights on, his breathing becomes even. He apologises. He tells her to sleep. She lies quietly and the darkness is resumed. Because there is nothing else to be done. And light lies in the silence. He hears Misa gradually get to sleep again. He closes his eyes and lies still –
As the fingers work their way over his spine.