DN -- Friend
Title: Friend
Collection: The Margins
Fandom: Death Note
Characters: Light Yagami, L
Rating: G
Word Count: 349
Warnings: none
Summary: It's the dreams again.
Author's Note: God damn it, they're cute. ;___;
FRIEND
Light opens his eyes.
It’s the dreams again-the dreams of endless darkness broken only by the screaming. He can’t tell what they mean, where they come from, or why, but he’s been having them almost nightly since his confinement, and they won’t go away.
He sits up and rubs his face, the handcuff chain clinking softly. There’s no gasping involved when he wakes up from the dreams, and no cold sweat drizzling down his spine-just a persistent unnerving feeling that lingers like a chilly miasma. A wrongness that is undeniable, inexplicable, depthless, and profound.
The clouds outside reflect the city’s luminescence, blurrily orange with it, and the unending rows of buildings visible beyond the windowpane push roofs and spires tentatively into the night. The drapes hang absently half-open, affording Light his view of the city and dimly illuminating the quiet sumptuousness of the room. It’s Ryuzaki’s fault-he always forgets to shut them. He doesn’t even think about things like that, things that play out on the regular plane of existence. He’s so brilliant that he’s transcended normalcy completely.
Light glances over at the other side of the bed, where the being-“human” is somewhat arguable, but “being” sounds fair-in question lies partly tangled in the cream-colored sheet. L sleeps like he sits: curled partway over, his knees bent and drawn up towards him, as if he’s protecting something soft and vulnerable that resides in his chest.
Light looks intently at him, at this weird, peerless genius. This is the man who doubts him, who accuses him, who questions him, tests him, challenges him at every turn. This is the man who tenaciously maintains an absurd suspicion against the one person who can help to catch the real culprit-this is the man who honestly believes that Light Yagami is a mass-murderer and none the wiser.
And this is the man who calls him “friend” in spite of it.
Light tugs the blanket gently up to Ryuzaki’s shoulder, smoothes it down, settles on his own side of the bed again, and lets his eyes slide shut.
Collection: The Margins
Fandom: Death Note
Characters: Light Yagami, L
Rating: G
Word Count: 349
Warnings: none
Summary: It's the dreams again.
Author's Note: God damn it, they're cute. ;___;
FRIEND
Light opens his eyes.
It’s the dreams again-the dreams of endless darkness broken only by the screaming. He can’t tell what they mean, where they come from, or why, but he’s been having them almost nightly since his confinement, and they won’t go away.
He sits up and rubs his face, the handcuff chain clinking softly. There’s no gasping involved when he wakes up from the dreams, and no cold sweat drizzling down his spine-just a persistent unnerving feeling that lingers like a chilly miasma. A wrongness that is undeniable, inexplicable, depthless, and profound.
The clouds outside reflect the city’s luminescence, blurrily orange with it, and the unending rows of buildings visible beyond the windowpane push roofs and spires tentatively into the night. The drapes hang absently half-open, affording Light his view of the city and dimly illuminating the quiet sumptuousness of the room. It’s Ryuzaki’s fault-he always forgets to shut them. He doesn’t even think about things like that, things that play out on the regular plane of existence. He’s so brilliant that he’s transcended normalcy completely.
Light glances over at the other side of the bed, where the being-“human” is somewhat arguable, but “being” sounds fair-in question lies partly tangled in the cream-colored sheet. L sleeps like he sits: curled partway over, his knees bent and drawn up towards him, as if he’s protecting something soft and vulnerable that resides in his chest.
Light looks intently at him, at this weird, peerless genius. This is the man who doubts him, who accuses him, who questions him, tests him, challenges him at every turn. This is the man who tenaciously maintains an absurd suspicion against the one person who can help to catch the real culprit-this is the man who honestly believes that Light Yagami is a mass-murderer and none the wiser.
And this is the man who calls him “friend” in spite of it.
Light tugs the blanket gently up to Ryuzaki’s shoulder, smoothes it down, settles on his own side of the bed again, and lets his eyes slide shut.