Hello! I'm back everybody! I'm proud to annouce that currently, this story has 202 reviews! WOOT you guys are great. Thank you so much even though the last chapter was Near again. He is important and I warned you of this *shakes finger*
Betaed by luckystars123 and tonieboo0013
Disclaimer: I do not own Death Note
Midora was bored and stuck with thirteen apples she didn't want. Ryuk had given them to her out of spite, knowing full well that she preferred bananas. Her thin arms clasped them closely to her body as she stared hatefully at them. No matter how much she morphed them in her mind or how hard she glared at them, they refused to turn into the delicious elongated fruit she so craved. Their nauseating red skin remained the same with no indication or intention of turning yellow.
Bored and more aggravated than she had ever been before, Midora's tail swished back and forth across the sand like that of an angry cat's. Instead of having a good gamble, she was trapped in this desolate world with a bunch of gossiping mutants. Her plump lips pulled back from her dagger-like teeth as she snarled lowly to herself. This was all Ryuk's fault. Ever since he dropped his Death Note and recommended the human who picked it up to become a newborn, all the other Shinigami talked about was Kira. Kira this, Kira that. Kira, Kira, Kira. It was enough to make Midora want to dig her webbed hands into her eye sockets and blind herself.
"That was an act of love!"
"Shut up, no it wasn't!"
"He was just trying to get the human to trust him."
"But that's forbidden."
"No, having sex with a human is forbidden."
"Wasn't that what Kira just did?"
"Are you an idiot? That was just a kiss."
"Kiss?"
"All of you shut up!" Midora yelled, her long tail twitching in irritation. The other Death Gods looked over their shoulders at her, some hissed and snarled, while others merely gave her a glare.
"If we're bothering you so much, why don't you just fly off somewhere else?" one of them asked. Midora gave a low rumbling growl for an answer and lumbered away. She didn't need to explain herself to them. Her skin ached as the heat of the Shinigami World seeped into her pores. How she hated the heat. Midora's spotted skin was that of an amphibian's and she was always in search of cool damp place to hide away in.
At least when Kira was here for a short time the realm had been cool. All the moisture had been sapped away as if to stroke the fires of Midora's ever growing fury, but at least there had been no heat. Her large eyes scanned over the various groups of Shinigami in annoyance as they all watched that dammed newborn. Everyone including The King, or as Midora still referred to him, the old man, seemed to think he was some kind of savior. Midora grunted in amusement at the thought. A newborn as a savior. Right…
She finally stopped trudging through the thick sand and sat down when she came to a nicely shaded spot under a large pile of skulls. Dalil would have a field day if she were here. Thinking of Dalil made Midora even more annoyed. Out of all the Shinigami to be taken with the newborn, Dalil was the last one she had expected to fall under the Kira fad. Alas, even Dalil, the most apathetic Shinigami when it came to the human world, was transfixed with the stupid brat, and Midora held the sudden depressing notion she was the last intelligent Death God left.
She dropped her bushel and the plump red fruit tumbled to the sand with muffled thuds. Time to find a human to write in her Death Note. She was probably the only one who still looked in the human world for actual humans. Glaring into one of the looking pools, she began her search. So far all the numbers she spotted didn't spark her interest. Midora had a preference when it came to killing humans and no matter how hard she searched the endless sea of them, her hunt proved futile.
She preferred middle-aged humans who were either extremely wealthy or extremely vain. Both were ideal, but usually she was only lucky enough to find one of the traits. Wealthy humans tended to be older and boring, while the more attractive ones although vain, were too young for Midora's tastes. She was a level seven Death God, meaning she was able to absorb almost 200 years worth of lifespan, but taking the life of a younger human seemed a bit unfair. Midora had very little sympathy when it came to the monkey-like creatures, but killing them before they had a chance to make themselves worth killing was a waste, in her opinion. As she continued to watch the endless sea of humans, a sort of odd checklist formed itself in her head.
Too fat.
Too young.
Too old.
Only twelve minutes left on that one's lifespan.
They bred like rabbits yet not one of them was worth killing. Midora twiddled with the disfigured pen between her knobby fingers as her bulging eyes went from one human to the other.
No. No. No. Wait.
Midora ceased her efforts when she spotted a human that wasn't necessarily in her preferences, but was fascinating nonetheless. Shifting her gigantic body around for a quick glance at the other Death Gods, she resumed her vigil. He was such a peculiar human, so peculiar in fact that the other humans locked him away. His lifespan was constantly shifting and changing, a very rare occurrence that Midora in all her centuries of living had yet to see. She liked that. Writing his name in the Death Note would be like playing a slot machine. One had to finish writing the name just as the numbers reached their peak in order to gain the most lifespan.
If there was anything Midora loved it had to be gambling. Still, she didn't want to kill him. For some reason, the way he looked was oddly appealing and yet the other humans trapped him behind a door. Their auras turned a musty gray whenever they approached him, meaning they were afraid of him. His own aura was a mix of red and dark purple, showing he was volatile, yet capable of maintaining control over his violent actions. Midora's smile curved higher. Maybe she wouldn't be so bored after all. Ryuk wasn't the only Death God who was able to find a human to amuse him.
The King wasn't easy to fool, but he was easy to bribe. She had thirteen apples she definitely wasn't going to eat, and a human she found she wanted to study more closely. She was bored and in need of entertainment. Ryuk thought he was so great when he found Kira, but now it was Midora's turn. Gathering up her apples with a quiet rumble of a giggle, she made her way to the Shinigami King.
---------------------------------------------
Light was beginning to scare himself. It had been two weeks since the attempted mugging, and the strange lapses in mood were beginning to get out of control. One minute, he'd be perfectly fine seeing everyone's lifespan, then the next, a strange hunger would overcome him and he'd want to kill. He had truly been regretful when he saw Barbra Wilson's lifespan cut down, but as soon as he saw the elderly gentleman named Andrew Gladstone, he had wanted to follow him and write down the most gruesome cause of death imaginable. Heart attacks weren't good enough. Something inside him wanted to see blood. He shuddered as he remembered the way his flesh seemed to erupt in pleasure as he dragged L's blood-soaked hand across his cheek.
Light was now looking down at the ex-detective from the corner of the room, his face solemn as his brown eyes took in the ugly purplish bruises and jagged scrapes across L's shoulders. The human picked up the habit of wearing loose fitting shirts and Light knew it was to spite him. At first it had been annoying and seemingly childish, but after staring at the wounds for so long, he began to think differently. He was much stronger than L, and he had allowed himself to lose control over a simple gunshot. With a begrudging sense of regret, Light knew L had every right to flaunt his injuries.
Yet Light had yet to apologize. Just imagining the scene made him nauseated. It wasn't entirely his fault, or at least that was what he told himself. As soon as that idiot of a mugger accidentally set his gun off, Light had been thrust back in time to the warehouse. Matsuda was screaming and that little bastard Near had been watching with those hideously wide eyes. His body had been thrown into a panic, reliving every single bullet that had torn into his flesh. He ran to the enraged Matsuda, begging him to stop, shaking his shoulders and trying to see a hint of compassion in the young detective's eyes.
He had been met with only blackness and pure hate. Matsuda had trusted him completely, and as Light screamed, his former peer hurled insults and pulled the trigger to his gun over and over. Tears had slipped down Matsuda's face, but they were tears of disgust and outrage. Then Matsuda shifted into his father, holding a revolver to his head, that same black look in his eyes. Misa had been next to him crying, while his father said those awful things that Light hadn't been aware were true. It had all been a test, but that didn't make the ordeal any less frightening. Then as soon as his father pulled the trigger, Light found himself against L's chest, trembling in fear and humiliated.
L turned to look at the small black and white television set he kept on his bookshelf before returning to writing in the little journal he bought. He had Light replace the pages with pieces of the Death Note a few days ago, and now L had created his own system when writing names.
The letters of a name were scattered throughout the page, then other letters were filled in around the letters to make the entire entry seem like a sentence. Light wondered why he never thought of this before, but didn't dwell on it. He had bigger things to worry about, like the kiss in the alley. That strange something that made Light think so darkly had taken over. Of course, Light himself had wanted to kiss L no matter how strange it seemed, but the idea that came along with it had formed on its own accord.
The absurd notion that L was falling for him made itself prevalent when the human had leaned forward ever so slightly and licked his lips, dark eyes fixated on Light's mouth. Light remembered it all as if it were a live action movie. If L was not in love with him, then he was definitely attracted to him.
Like Misa and Takada, L displayed the signs of infatuation, but L was not like a woman. He didn't want to be loved or cared for, but something else entirely that made Light's stomach churn sickeningly. He saw it in L's eyes, that hard look Light himself had given to every girl he dated. The newborn blew through his lips and pushed the thought away. It was impossible for it to happen anyway. It stated clearly in the rules that it was neither permitted nor possible for a Shinigami to have sex with a human. Besides, just kissing L was skating on thin ice, if not for angering The King, then from Rem's IABD seal.
Light realized he was starting to lose control of himself the night he came to grips with his own death. The tips of his fingers tingled as he recalled running them down L's face and feeling his warmth. Part of Light had wanted to kill him in that moment, but it hadn't been fueled by revenge. It had been that perverse feeling to see and feel blood. Light had wanted to drain L's life away and watch him grow cold, but in the end, the softness of the human's delicate skin was what made him regain his senses.
Maybe Rem really did know what she was doing and he wasn't so immune to the seal after all. There was no way he was going to fall in love with L, but Light admitted that there was a very real danger of becoming obsessed with him. Shinigami weren't known for their self control and commonly developed obsessions whether they were born or human-spawned. Death Gods were also creatures that acted on impulse, not killing to judge, but to survive. That was one of the reasons along with their bodily limits why they remained so incorruptible when it came to killing.
Light felt that awful feeling from that night return. He was being molded into something else. The impulses and desires he had trained himself to never feel were being released as everything that made him human melted away. Light closed his eyes to shut out L's hunched figure and calm himself.
You're getting ahead of yourself, he thought. Calm down. You just need to focus. There was no way Rem could know that I'd meet L again. Ryuk may have told her he was going to recommend me to The King, but there was no way she could have planned for this to happen. Dalil was right. She was desperate. I have no intention of sacrificing my life for Ryuzaki's. But that kiss…
The kiss had been something else entirely, and it had taken all of Light's fading self control not to go further. L's lips had been clammy and dry, but regardless of their unpleasant feel they were brimming with life. L's heart had hammered away in his chest, making Light's hunger intensify. The feeling of life, when Light's body was so cold, was like a drug.
Light remembered L's fingers unfeelingly stroking his hair that night, and how his imagination twisted them into the skeletal claws of the white Shinigami he murdered. Light had been on his knees before Rem, who had been petting him as if he were a small cat; smiling serenely as he played into her last trap. He could practically hear her low voice in his mind,
"Very good Light Yagami, feel for him. Don't let him die. Interfere. Exchange your life for his. I did the same for Misa."
"I need to think of a new way to get names," L suddenly spoke up, successfully jarring Light from his thoughts.
"True, L is no doubt starting to catch on that you're getting your source from the British news." The Shinigami tore his heavy gaze away from L's battered shoulders to look into his piercing black eyes. Strangely enough, the ex-detective had yet to mention the kiss or the incident in the alley, much to Light's relief. Part of him wanted to forget the whole incident, while another part wanted to exploit on the kiss, to conquer the human and make him submit. The contradicting thoughts were giving him a migraine.
Even the way he felt about L was opposite in every way shape and form. He was still disappointed in the memory loss, but had grown used to it and rather thankful. However, he was still in awe of how one minute L seemed so much like his old self, when the next he seemed to be a completely different person. His reaction to being kissed was so unlike the old L. Had Light pulled a stunt like that when he had been alive, there was no doubt that his face would have been met with L's foot.
"Any ideas?" L ventured. "Or are you just going to stare off into space?" Light glared briefly before trying to come up with a solution.
"Well, to get names from all over the world, you need an internet connection. But you barely make enough to keep this room and eat, let alone pay for online services."
"There are twenty libraries in Nottingham that offer free internet provided you have a library card," L stated. "Unfortunately, to get a library card you need an I.D. which I lack. Also, all this news coverage is not helping. The news stations around here have reported a few of the worst criminals in other countries, such as the serial killer in Russia and that corrupted politician in America, but including those, that's only five foreign names out of the 68 British criminals I've written down so far. Thankfully, most of those criminals were in London, so that offers me some protection along with the fact you found me a new route to work. But if my profiling of L is correct, from what you've told me about him, then he'll be concentrating his efforts on where the first murder took place.
"L knows that I'm in England, there's no doubt about that. The issue is if he finds out what city I'm in. Nottingham doesn't have a huge population like London, and thanks to the media blabbing about George Monroe and Peter Shane, there's a 30 percent chance L will find my old route to the bus station, meaning he'll find where I work, narrowing his suspects down to the employees." L gave a frustrated sigh and threw the pen down. "The only for sure way not to get caught is to quit my job, but that's impossible."
"You could always just steal someone else's library card," Light offered.
"True, but the problem there is what happens when they report their card missing," L murmured, his teeth working around his thumbnail. "I could always use the 23 day rule and control them for as long as possible and have them die in an accident, but that would go against my morals. I can't just kill innocent people."
Light let himself think for a moment. L did indeed need internet connections if he was going to spread out his judgments. He thought about just killing Near himself, but immediately ruled the possibility out. He wasn't sure how long Near had left to live and doubted if his body was able to absorb much lifespan after Beatrice Wilcott. Besides, if he killed Near in favor of L then he'd die.
"Protect a human, you die. Simple and clean."
L was looking at him expectantly as he thought. There had to be something. Suddenly, a new idea hit him. Sure he wasn't allowed to give L names, but there was nothing in the rules that stated he wasn't allowed to tell him which humans were bad or not. That was where the auras came in handy. Humans surrounded by a red aura were of ill intent. Light smiled to himself and met L's gaze.
"I may not be able to tell you names, but I am able to tell you which humans are of ill will." L's large eyes remained impassive.
"How, may I ask?" he questioned.
"My eyes color code humans to where I can see their intent."
"Really?" Light nodded.
"That night that woman was attacked, she was blue, while the two men were red."
"I see," L murmured thoughtfully. "Your eyes are pretty amazing aren't they?" Light's smile flickered briefly, not liking L's tone. It was almost like he was going in for an interrogation.
"They are pretty useful."
"You never answered my question." It took Light a moment to compose his facial expression into one of confusion when he knew exactly what L was thinking. That question that had been brought up two weeks before. L's deep black eyes glared into Light's own. The Shinigami kept his gaze empty, not willing to be pushed forward on his own. L didn't bother to wait him out. "Is it possible for a human to have your eyes?"
In the five painfully long seconds Light didn't answer the question, he knew it was futile to lie. L was wearing an face that reeked of suspicion and because of his hesitation, there was no way L was going to believe a denial. If the answer had simply been no, Light wouldn't have had to wait those few precious seconds to gather his blank thoughts.
The Death God watched L's expectant face, feeling his own suspicion rise.
How had L figured out the eye trade? Perhaps the human was remembering a little more than he was letting on. If that were true, then Light had to be careful and make sure L didn't figure out too much. Last night he had lied through his teeth, and though L seemed to accept his answer about being a suspect, he obviously didn't believe it.
Light instantly decided to end L's life himself if the ex-detective regained all his memories. Despite the fact he only had one week and five months left on his lifespan, in that short amount of time, an L with all his memories was an L with unlimited resources; the biggest one, Near.
If L remembered who he was, then Light knew his next move would be to contact his heir with plans to destroy the notebook. The Shinigami could not allow that. If the notebook was destroyed, then his approval in the Shinigami Realm was going to drop like lead. He hadn't forgotten his invisible audience, and knew that if the volunteered Death Note ever came to harm, he wasn't going to be given another one. He'd lose his last chance to make a perfect world.
Of course, L had already dug himself in a hole by writing, but Light doubted Near would arrest him. L was Near's idol, and though the little shit seemed to be made of marble when Light met him, he had been young. Light guessed he was anywhere from fourteen to nineteen, meaning a very smooth-talking L might be able to bullshit him into believing Light was the one to blame. Light knew he played a hand in making L write, but the final decision had all been L's. He could have easily let Mandy Kelly be raped by George Monroe and Peter Shane or let Brandon Goodwall get away with hurting a child, but he chose to stop them. L was Kira. Light was just the puppeteer in the shadows, and like any puppeteer, if the puppet malfunctioned, then he had every right to destroy it regardless of how fond he grew of it.
So he'd kill L, no problem, but the issue was the eye trade. If L agreed, was Light obligated to grant his wish? Now that he knew he was absorbing part of that human's life, just the thought of having a piece of L inside him made his icy skin crawl. Best to get it over with and pray this new L was smart enough to refuse.
"For half of your lifespan, I can give you a watered-down version of my eyes. You will be able to see the name and lifespan of every human. However, if another person owns a Death Note, you will not be able to see their lifespan. You will also not have the ability to see a person's auras." L's eyes finally left Light to stare up at the ceiling, his teeth munching away at his nonexistent nail. Light watched him carefully and stiffened as the human redirected his gaze at him.
"For half my life?"
"Yes."
"Why didn't you inform me of this trade before?" Light lowered his gaze to L's bare feet, where his toes were bending against the edge of his chair. The Shinigami hoped his silence was enough to let L know the truth. There was a sharp intake of breath before L spoke again. "I see."
"I'm sorry," Light sighed. "I really am." Especially if you remember more than you should, in which case your life might get even shorter, he added within his mind.
"How long?" L's voice was quiet, yet strangely calm. If Light didn't know him so well, then he might have believed L accepted his obviously short life.
"I can't tell you. It's forbidden," the Shinigami said.
"Will it hurt?"
"I don't know. I don't know how it will happen, I just know when it will happen."
"No, I mean will it hurt to die?" L's penetrating stare rested heavily upon him, and Light felt a part of himself break. He didn't want to think back on that night. He relived it enough. Yes, it had hurt to die. The pain from the initial wounds didn't stop when his soul separated from his body. It had been blackness, fueled by his awful screaming and agony. The only relief came when Ryuk's hand grabbed him, pulling his soul up and away from the darkness and misery, cackling wildly.
"Best get back to writing," Light advised, breaking eye contact with the ex-detective. L took the hint, knowing arguing with Light was pointless, and turned back to the notebook. The small television belted out a last round of names before the news concluded. "You didn't kill them all," Light observed, looking over the human's shoulder.
"No," L replied, closing the coded journal, and placing it in the drawer of his desk. "Minor criminals don't deserve death."
"Really? And what do you consider a minor criminal?"
"You seriously can't expect me to kill everyone who smokes in a public place right? That's illegal here, but you get the few troublemakers that do it anyway. You want me to kill them?" Light watched him carefully.
"No, that's overdoing it," Light reasoned. "You want to get the people to trust your judgment, and killing every jerk that happens to light one up on the subway might turn them away."
"What do you mean, 'I want the people to trust my judgment'?" L questioned, his eyes narrowing.
"Well, the first Kira was caught only six months ago. If you've really watched the news, you'd see that people are starting to celebrate his return. You might want to start out small to get them used to the idea of Kira passing judgment again."
"You make it sound like I'm taking over the world." At this, Light knew there was a fight brewing. Of course their ideologies had to clash eventually. Even if L didn't remember who he was and even if he was more enlightened now than in his past life, he was still L and Light was still the original Kira.
"Well, there has to be a supreme judgment in the world," Light reasoned. "The courts are corrupted and criminals go free all the time. It's up to you to make a perfect world."
"And that's where we differ. 'Perfect world'," L murmured quietly, staring up at the Shinigami. Light's eyes drifted away from his stare's harshness, and rested on the healing cuts and bruises on his shoulders. In that moment, something in his brain slipped away and the deformed fingers of his right hand tingled, wanting to feel the marred flesh. "I've told you, a perfect world is impossible, and I'm not a god."
"Then what are you?" Light questioned. He was beginning to lose himself again. A sort of feverish haze was descending upon his mind. He tried to look away from the human's wounds, but found them irresistibly intriguing. The skin around the cuts was inflamed, proof that his body was working to repair itself. Even after two weeks, the injuries had yet to heal all the way. Light wondered what would happen if his body was damaged. Did it have the ability to fix itself? A pang of envy struck him and he suddenly wanted to damage L's body further and watch it knit back together. That was the gift of the living. Their bodies could heal, while a Death God's was permanently frozen.
The Shinigami bit the inside of his cheek, pain the only thing penetrating the haze enough to where he still didn't act on the impulse.
Blood. Life. Warmth. Oh, how he wanted to sink his claws into L's collarbone and draw forth the warm blood that was the human's life. He wanted L's flesh to fix itself. A living body was so complex, every system worked in unison; a complex machine. A living organism was a technology no scientist or mechanic could ever hope master. Why hadn't Light appreciated the wonder that was his body while he still had the chance? A Shinigami was a dead entity that suckled on the life of the living in order to merely exist.
Light was supposed to disappear 40 seconds after Ryuk wrote his name in the Death Note, but this was worse than disappearing. This was like drowning and never being able to pass out, floundering with the constant burn in his lungs. Some primordial desire to live wanted to taste and feel life. Light curled his human hand into a fist, determined not to lose control.
"I'm simply a vigilante. I want to help the police out by getting rid of dangerous criminals, not kill every purse snatcher and smuggler," L said. He turned his pale neck slightly, and Light bit down even harder. The tingling in his right hand became unbearable.
"They're still criminals." I'm losing it. No. I'm not like other Shinigami. Rem held herself back and so can I. But Rem died for Misa. Does that mean she didn't have control? No! I'm better than that. I don't need this.
"Not all criminals deserve death," L replied. Light barely heard what he was saying as he fought with himself. Where had all his mental conditioning gone? He wasn't a creature that acted on impulse. He wasn't like Rem or Ryuk, who let their obsessions control them. "As long as they don't hurt anyone, I see no point in ending their life."
"Well, a purse snatcher could definitely hurt someone." That's right, get angry. Argue, stay human. Do not let it affect you. "What if he stole a purse from an old lady who had her medication inside of it?"
"Then it'd be her fault for carrying such an important item in her purse."
"Well, that's needlessly cold," Light observed, letting a smile curve his lips. His mind was in utter agony. Why did L have to wear loose fitting shirts in order to spite him? Why couldn't he just ignore his existence like last time? Argue with him, he demanded within his mind. "What if it was an inhaler that she needed to keep on her person?"
"Then she could always use her pockets," L argued.
"That still doesn't rule out pickpockets and the simple fact that stealing at all is wrong." Light noticed that he was slowly but surely inching closer and closer to the ex-detective and halted his progress, panicking silently. The haze was thickening and he had successfully bitten through the tender lining inside his mouth. The lack of blood from the injury made the drowning sensation worse.
"Be that as it may, a murderer or rapist deserves death, whereas a thief, although harmful, is not out to take anyone's life."
"But they still hurt innocent people. So you'll let them get away with it?" Light let a hint of mocking leak into his tone. This was one of the most difficult feats he ever attempted, keeping the stubbornly righteous front on the surface, while on the inside he was desperately trying to scramble for control over his ridiculously strong impulse to attack. His breathing had increased and it was becoming harder to keep quiet. Although it was unnecessary to stay alive, it was one of the last remaining functions that kept the fragile surface of his humanity whole.
"I'll let the police deal with them," L said. "They need jobs too. Like I said, I'm not a god."
"But you picked up the book. That means you have the responsibility to protect the weak," Light persisted.
"I will protect those whose lives are in danger. And yes, I did pick up the book. However, I will decide what to do with it and how to proceed wi-"
Light's paper thin resolve exploded as soon as L asserted dominance. The dark part that knew L was attracted to him lunged. The Shinigami threw himself into L, knocking the human off of his chair.
"What are you doing?!" L demanded, shoving hard against Light's shoulders. Light barely felt his struggles. His eyes grew hooded as he stared down at L's slightly annoyed and slightly fearful expression. "Get off." Light's mouth split into a grin as his claws ran down L's cheek before resting over his the rise of his collarbone.
"I can hear your heart," Light murmured, pressing one of his claws down hard on a particularly nasty gash. L hissed in pain as the blood swelled around the newborn's finger. The Shinigami tilted his head, pleased to see a trail of crimson following the path of the claw.
"I'm warning you, get off of me!" L snapped, masking his nervousness with anger.
"Or you'll do what?" Light grinned, and stared deeply into the human's heavily guarded eyes. L shuddered in revulsion beneath him and let his fingers twist into Light's hair, trying to pull the Shinigami's head away. Light felt the yanks and L's knees pounding into his abdomen, but it was like a small child kicking at a brick wall. He was fighting like a trapped animal, but Light didn't feel pain by physical wounds.
L's heart was pounding in his ears and his thin body was warm beneath him as his hands rested on the human's shoulders. Light loved the dominance, loved to see L fighting in vain under him. Even now as the human tried to give him a blank, cold stare, Light saw the hint of terror dawning on his face. The Shinigami was much stronger than him, and he was sick. Light knew he was sick and tried to stop himself.
It was just too good. L was trying to beat his shoulders and head, but Light didn't so much as twitch. The sensation that had been plaguing his right hand was terrible and he gave in to letting the tips of his long black claws ghost along the human's jugular. A slight pressure would end the human's life. Again, Light wanted to kill him, to have his blood soak his disgusting hand. All these impulses were flying though his mind, and the careful barrier he had constructed in life was absent. He wanted to feel L's life drain from his body, yet he also wanted to keep L alive, to exploit on the kiss they shared those weeks ago. It was all so inconsistent, the need to kill and the need to take. Everything regarding L was inconsistent and contradicting, that was the beauty of it.
Light pulled back again, his smile wide as he stared down at the helpless L. The human was still trying to look brave, his black hair splayed against the carpet and his chest rising and falling rapidly. Both of his hands were on either side of Light's shoulders as he still attempted to push him away. An awful giggle escaped the newborn's lips, and suddenly, L's hands went through Light's shoulders. The Shinigami made himself untouchable and L's false anger faded into a look of absolute horror.
Light knew that without anything to grab on, L was going to panic. It was like being held down by a ghost, unable to push it away and not even able to touch or feel it. Light only watched him squirm, still smiling. Tiny trails of blood seeped from the scratches, for most had been reopened due to the struggle. L was revolted and scared, but Light had never been happier. That drowning sensation was eased due to being so close to something alive. Finally, L stopped his struggling and glared up at Light, his mouth a taunt line.
Light let his stare drift from the human's face to his chest where he noticed the scratches were still bleeding. L's attempt to spite him had turned Light's attack into another darker impulse. The thick haze surged his brain. Blood was an organism's life. Even now, L's body was warm and his fear was pungent in the air. Slowly, Light lowered his head and let his tongue peak between his lips to lick at the droplets.
As soon as he tasted the salty tang, he jerked his head back, the haze thinning to allow the very human feeling of disgust. What the hell was wrong with him? He had never gone this far before. He had wanted to feel blood and see it, but he never wanted to taste it. His eerie grin had faded into a look of shock and he lifted his face to stare into L's eyes once more.
"Do you want to kill me Light?" L asked, his voice even.
"Yes," Light answered honestly, his own voice strained. "And no."
"You're disgusting," L whispered venomously. A flash of old hatred bubbled within the Shinigami and his shocked and horrified expression morphed into one of anger. He sank his claws in the back of L's shoulders, more blood pooling around the puncture wounds and staining the carpet. L yelped, but snapped his mouth shut and instead growled through clenched teeth. Light made sure it stung, made sure that the tips of his talons grazed the pathetic excuse for muscle before leaning in to whisper into L's ear.
"Remember this moment," he hissed. "You can't fight me off, so don't count me out."
With that, Light flapped his wings and released L from his hold, suddenly and utterly disgusted with himself. L had returned to his usual sitting position staring at Light with a new form of hatred. The Shinigami held the eye contact steadily, although he was deeply ashamed. Rem wasn't as stupid as he thought. Shinigami had obsessions and desires that they were unable to ignore. If L became Light's obsession, then Light had to kill him. There were now two instances where L had to die, and yet his lifespan remained unaffected, neither lengthening nor decreasing.
"Goodnight," L said stiffly after a moment, cautiously creeping by Light to get to his cot. It was still daylight outside, but L was determined to get sleep before returning to the grocery store that night.
"Night," Light whispered, drifting to the other side of the tiny room. How could he have let himself do that? There were no more impulses or flickering desires, yet despite that they were satisfied for the time being, Light felt like he lost something important, like he had lost an important battle.
The feeling of drowning overcame him again, and just like before he was forced to endure the burning inside of him without escape.
Thank you guys for getting this far! I'm really enjoying your feedback. So what do you think? I am a crafty one. P: (I used your sign Lucky!)
Very well deserved shout outs go to: Lolzmachine, gemenin001928, Xelena, re, Dani-of-the-dark, Snoaz, Linea Arlis, sessystalker, Black-Dranzer1119, Psychopomp1725, Kimerald, Kyra213, 4udball, Rin5o, iCream, Barranca, The Anonymous PenName, Rei-chan94, and darkrose821
You guys be beasting!