Dynamism
folder
Death Note › Het-Male/Female › L/Misa
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
4
Views:
3,101
Reviews:
9
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Category:
Death Note › Het-Male/Female › L/Misa
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
4
Views:
3,101
Reviews:
9
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Disclaimer:
I do not own Death Note, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.
my favorite color is shame
She doesn't really stay to bask in the afterglow - she has brought him over to the dark side, and his infatuation has been assured, so she's finished for now. She mentally congratulates herself on a job well done, kisses him goodnight and whispers a half-hearted excuse for leaving - "it will be morning soon, Ryuuzaki, and I don't think it would be in our best interests for me to be here when Light wakes up" - and he nods mutely as she pulls her clothes on, because of course he understands; he's all too aware that they cannot exist outside of this twisted space she has created for them. They have become creatures of the night now, people who commit crimes of passion in the hours between twilight and dawn - and apparently sated, he allows her to steal away into the night.
The clock reads 4:47 when she finally shuts the door to her room behind her and makes a beeline for the bathroom. She flicks the switch on the wall as she enters and the room is immediately bathed in obtrusive white light. She kneels on the colored tile beside the tub, twists the knob on the shower and starts a bath for her that's scalding hot. When it's halfway full she rummages through the cupboard beneath the sink, seizing a bottle of expensive, rose-scented bubble bath and dumps the entire contents of it into the blistering water. Then, overcome in a sudden desperate frenzy, she practically rips her clothes off with dramatic flourish and throws herself down into the waters' painful depths.
Then, she grabs a washcloth and squirts some liquid soap on to it, lathers herself up from head to toe. Even with all the scented oils, she still reeks of him - the musky stench of sex and L taints her, dirties her, and now matter how hard she rakes the washcloth over the length of her lithe and supple body she cannot rid herself of it. She continues to furiously scrub herself until her skin is pink and raw and still he lingers, his scent stubbornly clinging to her skin. All attempts to rid herself of him are futile, as she cannot escape him - he's on her tongue, in-between her legs, in her pores, contaminating the very root of her being.
The sudden magnitude of her actions is now impressed upon her, and she feels the first sting of tears. She feels ashamed, but not of how she's manipulating L, but how she's wronged Light. Even with her noble intent, she knows she has destroyed something - something honest and lovely and golden, like Light is himself. She has cheated on him. She has strayed from the path of what is right and virtuous. Never again can she say she's been true to Light - she has sacrificed her own purity in order to destroy L. And although she does not regret her actions (she's doing it for Light's benefit after all, whether he'll ever be aware of it or not) she feels a pang of loss regardless. The dynamic between them has irrevocably been shifted, again, and it's all L's fucking fault.
And with this weight bearing down upon her, Misa cries, and cries, and cries.
--
"What's wrong, Ryuuzaki?" Light asks the next morning. There's an un-opened box of doughnuts between them, still fresh and warm from a downtown Tokyo bakery, courtesy of Watari. L has not shown any sign of interest since their arrival some fifteen minutes ago, which is highly unusual for the raven-haired youth. The chain between them rattles as Light settles his hand on the elder boy's shoulder. "You seem... distracted."
The physical contact seems to shake L free from the fragments of his reverie. "Hm?" he asks, intelligently, looking up from the array of monitors aligned before them. He seems almost dazed.
"You haven't touched your breakfast," Light tries again, indicating the pastries between them. L's apparent lack of appetite is very unsettling to the younger man, who is unused to seeing the detective without something sweet in his hands. "Are you alright?"
"Oh? It's nothing... I was just thinking..." to which Light muses to himself in response, when are you ever not thinking?
Still L does not reach for a doughnut, and instead, returns to the live video feed before them. His eyes flicker left and right as they scan each and every angle presented neatly before them, rapidly absorbing information. His eyes subtly linger for a half-second longer on monitor trained upon Misa's slumbering form in her bedroom upstairs. Still, this miniscule difference in length does not go entirely unnoticed by Light's hyper-visual perception, who quirks an eyebrow but does not implore the matter further.
The clock reads 4:47 when she finally shuts the door to her room behind her and makes a beeline for the bathroom. She flicks the switch on the wall as she enters and the room is immediately bathed in obtrusive white light. She kneels on the colored tile beside the tub, twists the knob on the shower and starts a bath for her that's scalding hot. When it's halfway full she rummages through the cupboard beneath the sink, seizing a bottle of expensive, rose-scented bubble bath and dumps the entire contents of it into the blistering water. Then, overcome in a sudden desperate frenzy, she practically rips her clothes off with dramatic flourish and throws herself down into the waters' painful depths.
Then, she grabs a washcloth and squirts some liquid soap on to it, lathers herself up from head to toe. Even with all the scented oils, she still reeks of him - the musky stench of sex and L taints her, dirties her, and now matter how hard she rakes the washcloth over the length of her lithe and supple body she cannot rid herself of it. She continues to furiously scrub herself until her skin is pink and raw and still he lingers, his scent stubbornly clinging to her skin. All attempts to rid herself of him are futile, as she cannot escape him - he's on her tongue, in-between her legs, in her pores, contaminating the very root of her being.
The sudden magnitude of her actions is now impressed upon her, and she feels the first sting of tears. She feels ashamed, but not of how she's manipulating L, but how she's wronged Light. Even with her noble intent, she knows she has destroyed something - something honest and lovely and golden, like Light is himself. She has cheated on him. She has strayed from the path of what is right and virtuous. Never again can she say she's been true to Light - she has sacrificed her own purity in order to destroy L. And although she does not regret her actions (she's doing it for Light's benefit after all, whether he'll ever be aware of it or not) she feels a pang of loss regardless. The dynamic between them has irrevocably been shifted, again, and it's all L's fucking fault.
And with this weight bearing down upon her, Misa cries, and cries, and cries.
--
"What's wrong, Ryuuzaki?" Light asks the next morning. There's an un-opened box of doughnuts between them, still fresh and warm from a downtown Tokyo bakery, courtesy of Watari. L has not shown any sign of interest since their arrival some fifteen minutes ago, which is highly unusual for the raven-haired youth. The chain between them rattles as Light settles his hand on the elder boy's shoulder. "You seem... distracted."
The physical contact seems to shake L free from the fragments of his reverie. "Hm?" he asks, intelligently, looking up from the array of monitors aligned before them. He seems almost dazed.
"You haven't touched your breakfast," Light tries again, indicating the pastries between them. L's apparent lack of appetite is very unsettling to the younger man, who is unused to seeing the detective without something sweet in his hands. "Are you alright?"
"Oh? It's nothing... I was just thinking..." to which Light muses to himself in response, when are you ever not thinking?
Still L does not reach for a doughnut, and instead, returns to the live video feed before them. His eyes flicker left and right as they scan each and every angle presented neatly before them, rapidly absorbing information. His eyes subtly linger for a half-second longer on monitor trained upon Misa's slumbering form in her bedroom upstairs. Still, this miniscule difference in length does not go entirely unnoticed by Light's hyper-visual perception, who quirks an eyebrow but does not implore the matter further.