Hello and welcome to Chapter Two of our dramatic and most epic saga ever. I am your host, Christian Jaw, and this... IS AMERICAN IDOL! Jk.

Hey guys, in a desperate attempt to get more subscribers / reviews, if you give us a smexy review, YOU MIGHT GET INTO THE STORY! Oh, and mebbe your chances will get even higher if you subscribe to us. Oh, and did we mention you MIGHT BE IN THE STORY?!

Well, not like, a big part, but perhaps you may be a passerby. For example:

"A random passerby named xXXxDarkXxXSunxXx tripped and fell as he witnessed Rosalyn's perfectness."

Oh, and if you send someone our story, make sure to give yourself credit (the person that got referred must send in a review saying 'I got referred here by __insert your user here__').

And whatnot.

Light's Love

It was a perfect, sultry summer night. And all was silent.

Except for two people walking along the dark, dimly lit suburban roads. Fireflies hovered lazily around the street lamps, creating flickering lights, which cast a romantic feel in the air.

And Light thought, with a smirk on his face, This is perfect. Just... perfect. And in Light's sick, perverted, twisted mind, he was thinking about what to do with Ryuz- Uh, I mean, Rosalyn, when they got home together... locked in a room... in the dark... with a large, comfortable bed next to them.

And Light could not contain his excitement! He glanced to his side, and saw how the dull street lights illuminated her perfect face. How her dark, rippling, long hair fell past onto her knees and flowed ever so gracefully, like an elegant river trailing behind her. And her eyes! Oh, her perfect eyes. How... perfect they were!

Light cleared his throat, breaking the awkward-but-romantic silence.

"We're... we're here," Light murmured quietly, opening the gate with a small squealing noise. And walk in she did. Although it was more like a graceful floating motion. "Uhm, go on in," he muttered, unsure of what to say to this stunning girl. Rosalyn gave Light a small, uneasy perfect smile, and opened the door.

Saiyu and Mrs. Yagami were watching television together, but once Rosalyn timidly opened the door, they fell silent, awestruck by the force of her awesome, perfect beauty that so awesomely, perfectly illuminated the entire room, which had suddenly become infinitely more awesome and perfect because Rosalyn had stepped into it in the most awesome and perfect way.

"Koniichiwa," whispered Rosalyn politely, and all at once, the two women sitting on the couch were once again struck dumb by her perfect, perfect Japanese, which had no traces of any accent, even though she obviously wasn't Japanese.

"This is Rosalyn," said Light. "She..."

It was then that he realized how ridiculous he would sound if he said "She felt out of nowhere." Besides, Rosalyn was perfect, so she wouldn't "fall out of nowhere." That would be an insult to the beautiful, perfect girl.

Rosalyn glanced her perfect eyes in Light's direction and immediately understood his quagmire.

"Is... is it okay if I stay over tonight?" Rosalyn asked, in her most polite tone, changing the subject at the speed of light.

Saiyu showed the slightest hesitation, and Mrs. Yagami was instantly riled at her daughter's hesitation in accepting this once-in-a-lifetime offer. Shooting a fierce glare at Saiyu, she put her arm around Rosalyn in a motherly fashion.

"Here," said Mrs. Yagami. "This way." She guided Rosalyn to the couch, and Saiyu stared a little too reverently at Rosalyn's back.

If I were a guy, I'd totally hit on Rosalyn, thought Saiyu to herself. But not in this lifetime... too much surgery.

"Where'd you get a girl like that?" mouthed to Light. He strode over to her and bent down to whisper fiercely in her ear. "Don't you dare speak of Rosalyn like that," the words escaping his teeth in a dark hiss. "She's a messenger, sent from God himself! She fell from the sky. She's... she's going to be a revolution!"

And my future wife when I become God of the new world, Light thought privately to himself. He could not help but put on his creepy rape face smile.

He wrenched up Rosalyn's arm, not wanting to share her with anyone else. "Come, let's go," he muttered into her ear. She nodded mildly and followed him up to his room.

Finally, Light and Rosalyn were alone in Light's room. Light turned off the lights, locked the door, lit some fragrant candles and scattered roses around the room. He put on some great baby-making music (For example, 'Sorry Sorry Answer Song' by Super Junior). And then, Light posed exotically onto his suddenly king-sized bed and had a rose clamped in his mouth. And for the full creepy effect, he grabbed his crotch and looked invitingly at Rosalyn.

Rosalyn stared at Light innocently, as if she had no idea what Light was trying to say. In all truth, Rosalyn DID have no idea what Light was doing, because Rosalyn is perfect, and therefore as innocent as new-fallen snow. Or something like that.

"Um, Light. I have something to say," whispered Rosalyn.

"What is it?" asked Light breathlessly, eagerness swelling up in his pants as his sick, perverted fantasies went into overdrive.

"You're... you're Kira, aren't you?"

She knows... she knows! he thought epically. But he had wanted to tell her himself, for if she was to be his future wife, she had to know the truth about her future husband.

But she knew the question Light had before he could even ask her how she knew. She put her soft, perfect hand to his cheek and stroked it comfortingly in the perfect gesture of innocent friendship.

[A/N: AND HE JIZZED IN HIS PANTS.]

Rosalyn murmured gently, "Your secret is safe with me. For I, too, have been given this power of controlling death."

"You..."

And out of nowhere, Rosalyn whipped out her six Deathnotes! Six!

Light's eyes bulged with amazement, and he knew. He knew that she was THE ONE.

[A/N: The realization causing him to once again ruin his pants.]

And as delicate rose-colored orbs met brown, there was a moment. A moment of understanding which acknowledged the power that both beings held. For Light knew that this perfect girl was the true God, and that he could never comepete. He would follow this girl to the end of the world.

And he believed.

Believed in what?, you may ask. Well, we don't know either. But Rosalyn is perfect, so... Light just simply believed. And he became surer of his newly-found faith as he gazed into her pink eyes, which were so perfect, like a newly budding rose.

Rosalyn's pink eyes offered all the friendship and innocence in the world. But Light's perverted fantasies prevailed -- at least to himself -- and he saw the most seductive eyes possible. He could feel his hormones rising rapidly, and he knew he had to do something. Something to distract him from this perfect girl sitting next to him on his bed. Or maybe something to make his fantasies into reality.

He leaned towards Rosalyn, tipping her face towards him with his gentle fingers. His other hands crawled slowly onto Rosalyn's lap. And Rosalyn just looked on, innocently, with no inkling at all of what he was doing. If Rosalyn were not perfect and she were some other hormone-crazed average teenager, she would have done something that would have been indecent to write by now. But she wasn't a hormone-crazed average teenager. She was Rosalyn, for God's sake! She was freaking perfect.

"Light," murmured Rosalyn. "I have a question..." And she cupped Light's hand (which was still laying on her lap in a most perverted fashion) and whispered into his ear.

"A question?" repeated Light, his eyes still lost within her suddenly serious, perfect, deep, dark red ones.

"Yes..."

"Anything for you, Rosalyn..."

"Who... who is your Shinigami?"

Light appeared most crestfallen at her question, for undoubtedly he was expecting something more...ah, exciting. Rosalyn swiftly scanned the entire room, and even though she could not see Ryuk, she looked directly into the direction he was at.

Ryuk saw her apple-colored eyes. And he knew he could drown forever in those deep, alluring, beautiful pools of depth. He also knew that he could give up eating apples forever, because who would need to eat apples after gazing at those beautiful, perfect eyes? Not Ryuk, at any rate.

Although Light was still trying do something very indecent, he decided that Rosalyn's desires were more important than his own. And so, Light stood up and took out his single Death Note, which looked pretty pathetic next to the six laying near Rosalyn's side.

"Here," he murmured. And Rosalyn extended one perfect finger, which was topped with the exact color of her eyes at the moment (a most serious and sparkling deep ruby which captured the color of the jewels encrusted in the hilt of Gryffindor's sword) toward the Death Note Light held out. There was a hushed silence, and then her red nail gently lay flat onto the black notebook. She turned around, and gasped.

"Ryuk! It's you," she said perfectly and breathlessly, for this was the Shinigami that had helped her in the Death God world. She continued in her perfect voice, perfectly. "How good to see you," and Ryuk could not agree more. All he could muster was a stunned nod, so amazed was he that Rosalyn actually spoke to him, he could have died from happiness.

"Where is your Shinigami, Rosalyn?" asked Light.

"I don't have one," Rosalyn explained. "I'm not sure why, but..."

Light nodded. He understood, for why would a perfect being like Rosalyn need a Shinigami?

Rosalyn yawned perfectly, her mouth a perfect 'O' shape, and at once, Light was insisting that she went to bed. Rosalyn did not hesitate, for she knew that she was indeed very tired. Rosalyn had had a long day. She settled into a settling, perfect sleep and her eyelashes fluttered shut perfectly. Light could only wonder at how perfect she looked when she slept, like an innocent baby angel.

So innocent, in fact, that Light could not bear to cause her any unnecessary harm!

And so, Light got comfortable with his carpet, as he fell into a relaxed sleep, content with the world.

Christian Jaw here. Thank you for reading Chapter Two, 'Light's Love'. We had extreme trouble writing this as we kept having writer's block and whatnot. Also, our Copy Editor Miss Amazeedayzee for she is in a super duper competition at the moment. Shout outs to her, yo. We send you our love and whatnot. I love using that word. WHATNOT. WHATNOT. Ohohoho.

Crane would like to add that Rosalyn's addled her brains too. She was writing an essay for school and found herself randomly putting "perfect" into completely irrelevant contexts that don't even make sense, such as: "[His] perfect desire for his companion." And using what she and Jaw had dubbed "Rosalyn-styled writing."

Where is Karen #2? She must copy edit this for us.

Indeed.

Or what not. Crane Yank? Wherefore art thou Crane Yank?

I do believe that that is inquiring why I am Crane Yank. I AM BECAUSE I THINK. Wait, or was it the other way around? Murp.

I would not know. I suck at reading Shakespeare.