L POV
I stared in wonderment as my avid fingers dancing over the keys of my laptop grew progressively slower.
"Odd," I whispered to myself, careful not to wake the sleeping beauty curled in the bed by my side.
The slowed functioning of my body was a clear indication that I needed nourishment. However, I had consumed the donuts I had brought to bed with me (much to the dismay of the obsessively cleanly boy I was attached to) at 1:32 am. It couldn't be more than a half hour from that time.
To insure this fact, I checked the miniature digital time keeper in the corner of my laptop and... 3:36? That can't be right. My internal clock is impeccably accurate, and I had thought it was only around 2 am.
I looked to the clock on my bedside table for a second opinion and... 3:37? That was even later than the first! No wonder my function-ability is faltering. I am overdue for my 3 am sugar dosage!
Well, this certainly can be remedied. I turned to stir my chain-mate.
"Light-kun?" I poked his cheek. With only a slight groan, his eyelids fluttered open to reveal bloodshot carmel eyes. "Light-kun does not usually awaken easily, and his eyes express fatigue," I noted. "Why wasn't Light-kun sleeping?"
"I don't know," he struggled into a sitting position. "It's just been a stressful day. I couldn't sleep, I've just been... thinking."
I nodded solemnly. "I know the feeling."
He slowly peeled back the covers and swung his legs over the edge of the bed.
"I had thought Light-kun wouldn't voluntarily begin his day after a sleepless night."
"I'm not beginning my day, L!" he snapped. "I'm getting up because you clearly want to go on one of your insane cake runs! It's after 3 and you decided, yet again, that your sugar whims preside over my much needed rest!"
"Snippy, aren't we?" I mumbled.
He gave a sharp tug on the chain, effectively sending me toppling to the floor. "Ow. No need for vindictive actions, Light-kun. You were awake already, after all."
"Yes, but due to the fact that you attempted to wake me, you were unaware of that fact!"
"Light-kun should be thanking me. It is boring lying in bed lacking both sleep and entertainment."
"Gee, thanks," he mumbled, wearily shuffling out of the room. "Hey, L?" He ventured after a moment of silence.
"Yes?"
"Is there a reason you were late waking me? You are usually quite meticulous when it comes to snack breaks."
"I was... distracted."
He looked at me expectantly before turning to scowl at his lazy feet, realizing I wasn't planning on elaborating. His hair, the image of perfection despite being uncombed, draped forward to hide his eyes. I lamented their loss. His wide honey-brown eyes were not only breathtakingly beautiful, but quite expressive when he was lacking rest. At times like these, he was often too tired to put up a front. Gazing into those swirling orbs was like peering into his soul, if only for a moment at a time.
"L?" His voice broke my musings. "We're at the kitchen. You're quite distracted tonight, aren't you?"
"No more than Light-kun is," I drawled, plating a delectable slice of butterscotch cake.
"How can you know that?"
"Light-kun usually sleeps when he is tired, and he could not sleep."
"Oh," my companion mutter irritably.
"Yes, after living with you for so long, I have found you to be very predictable."
"Oh, really," he scoffed.
"Mmm," I hummed, indicating the affirmative, as I hopped onto a stool.
"I wonder what Light-kun is concerned about?" I hinted. I desperately wanted him to say it himself, to verify that his fears were the same as my own. For fear... that was the emotion I was experiencing now, seeping like poison from the back of my mind. And for the Great Detective L to be afraid that he wouldn't solve a case, that he wouldn't come out alive, was unforgivable.
"I've been feeling," the bright teen began, openly scrutinizing my reaction, "like I'm absolutely helpless. After all of that work to catch Higuchi... saving Matsuda's sorry ass, manipulating the board members, tolerating Misa, crafting a plan to catch him... it was all for nothing. We caught the Third Kira, and yet the deaths continue. And unless it was all a practical joke..." he trailed off.
"I don't know how to defeat the supernatural," I admitted.
"So you're saying they weren't lying, that Shinigami are real?"
"97.4%"
"97.4%! That's not possible! How did you come to that?"
"I'd rather not recount my calculations."
"What? You think I won't be able to comprehend?"
"I know Light-kun is very intelligent, I'd just rather not expose the inner workings of my mind to a potential Kira," I snapped at him, my tone perhaps a bit too venomous. I braced myself for his retaliation- Perhaps an assortment of colorful words with jaded edges, or perhaps it would be a fist in my face.
"Will you ever trust me?" he whispered as he sagged against the wall he was leaning against. My overworked mind ran circles around him, scanning him like a lie detector, searching for signs of his impeccable acting, for motivations for his behavior, for Kira indicators, but I came up dry. "I want you to trust me," he mumbled to himself.
Of course you do. You want me to trust you so you can kill me...
No. I couldn't tell him that, not when he looked so... broken. The poor boy had been awake for nearly twenty three hours and the demanding, mind bending day we had powered through left him drained, yet unable to rest. His meticulously built walls were crumbling before me, finally breaking under the pressure of the case.
This would be an opportune moment to question him, as he is currently rendered incapable of outmaneuvering my interrogation techniques, but... If this is Honest Light before me, as I've come to recognize more and more since we've been handcuffed, then his words were truthful. He wants me to trust him. I couldn't question him now, no matter whether it was right, or just, or shirking my responsibilities, I simply couldn't.
"I want to trust you, Light-kun."
"No you don't. You want me to be Kira. You don't want to proven wrong."
"Perhaps I felt that way at one point," I mused, "but I don't want Light-kun to be Kira. That would make me... upset. Very upset."
"So the World's Best Detective has emotions?" he teased, trying to hide the adorable half smile my words had painted on his lips.
"Best three detectives," I corrected.
The troubled teen rolled his eyes and allowed his grin to make itself apparent. "Come on, Oh Great One, let's go back to bed. You've finished your cake."
I sighed and glanced longingly at my empty plate, lamenting the absence of the sugary baked item. I suppose I could permit myself one more slice. Perhaps it wouldn't be prudent, but the cake was-
"Let's go. Stop day dreaming about cake!"
"I can't help it," I pouted.
The shrewd youth grasped my hand and pulled me off the stool.
"Light-kun... why did you do that?"
"Oh, don't tell me you wanted more cake, L. You can wait until morning."
"Light-kun, technically it is morning, considering we are in the AM hours. But I meant to ask why Light-kun pulled me off the stool."
"I'm exhausted, L. I need my beauty sleep."
"But why is Light-kun still holding my hand?"
Light's eyes widened and his cheeks were dusted a baby pink as he pulled his hand out of my grasp. "Sorry."
"No," I curled my fingers around the retreating hand. "I do not mind."
"L, why did you-"
"Contrary to popular belief, I rather like physical contact, especially with someone a care deeply about."
"Oh," he replied simply. I would consider his reply to be quite disconcerting, were it not for him hesitantly squeezing my hand. I was always one to believe that actions spoke louder than words. The only fault in this theory is the possibility that I cannot interpret the actions. Of course, this dilemma has never arisen before...
Nevertheless, I decided to try to chink the gears of my ever-whirring mind, at least until we reached our room. I wanted to enjoy the moment, enjoy the feeling of his warm palm pressed against my own, of his silk smooth skin, of the close proximity, of the bazaar connection I felt with him, without the interruption of my analytical mind. I didn't want to ask what he meant by this action and what he was feeling any more than I wanted to wonder what I meant by this action, and what was the name of the unidentified emotion fluttering in my heart, coursing through my veins.
That night... or rather early morning... I did not attempt to join my companion in futile attempts at sleep. I cradled my hand, remembering the sensation, savoring the memory. No one had held my hand since Watari first brought me to the orphanage. After that, I was alone in the world of crime, injustice, betrayal, and murder. My oversized brain was my only companion. But now...
"L..." the dashing brunet's soft whisper shattered the dark silence.
"Are you awake, Light-kun?"
"I still can't sleep."
"Perhaps you should have some cake. That's what I do when I feel sleep is necessary."
"Sugar prevents the body from sleeping, stupid."
"Light-kun is so tired he forgot I was a genius," I remarked dryly.
"How, oh how could I forget? The brain power of Super L is so very marvelous," he told his pillow.
"Is Light-kun still concerned about the existence of Shinigami?"
"...No... I mean, yes, but that's not what I was thinking about."
"What plagues your mind, then?"
Light pushed himself into a seated position, relying heavily on the support of the headboard. "You said you didn't want me to be Kira. That you used to, but don't anymore."
"Yes, I recall that."
"...That must mean that your feelings towards me have changed. I was wondering... How exactly have they changed?"
"I honestly don't know yet, Light-kun. You have induced unfamiliar feelings that I am struggling to categorize."
He smiled sleepily. "Good."
"Light-kun enjoys my confusion?"
"No, I just feel the same way." He leaned into me and rested his head on my shoulder.
"Light-kun? Light-kun?" My cheeks felt warm. I enjoyed his intimacy, but it was... unfamiliar. I didn't know how to react, or what to make of the fact that he wasn't responding. "Light-kun?" I tried again.
Oh. It suddenly dawned on me that the fatigued youth had finally drifted into slumber. I listened for a moment to his deep, calm breaths, and lay my head atop his.
I had always wanted to touch his hair. It was consistently lovely, perfect, and glossy, and it was just as soft and silky against my cheek as I had imagined. I registered a vague sense of surprise as my eyelids began to droop. I hadn't planned on sleeping but I...