The
Therapy Room has finally released its hold on both L and Misa. He trudges down the hall, avoiding eye contact with her, avoiding her touch. He feels as though the air has thickened: even walking is tiring.
When they reach the room, he opens the door, holding it for her after he steps inside, still not looking at her.
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::She steps into the room as he holds the door for her, but the fact that he's not looking at her hurts. Then again, she's avoinding her gaze as well out of shame.::
Thank you.
::she trudges over to the sofa, sitting with her legs curled up next to her, grabbing onwe of the couch pillows to hold against her, as if it could shield her somehow from what is to come::
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Why are you thanking me?
*He sounds lost.*
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You held the door for me.
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Ah. Habit. You are five feet tall; it's a heavy door.
*The silence in the room is its own noise, buzzing and fraught.*
... You never told me, Misa. Why didn't you ever tell me?
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