Death Note Fan Fiction ❯ PITCH ❯ With Quiet Words I'll Lead You In ( Chapter 4 )

[ X - Adult: No readers under 18. Contains Graphic Adult Themes/Extreme violence. ]

 

Pitch: (def.) 

A substance commonly utilized to bind materials in construction... Tar pitch appears solid, and can be shattered with a hard impact, but it is actually fluid. Pitch flows at room temperature, but extremely slowly. To attain maximum fluidity, to be used, it must be exposed to heat.

 

Minds are like pitch. To reveal their full potential, they must be exposed to environs that apply stress. They must be challenged.

 

____________________________________________________________< /font>

 

Part 4: (With Quiet Words I'll Lead You In)

 

Inevitably, the blonde posed the path of least resistance. L had been determined to choose anyone but the person Raito had suggested earlier, but assuaged himself with the fact that he had chosen her first as a likely candidate before the brunette had offered his unwanted opinion.

 

Irritation fueled him as far as the location of the bar, but the task he'd set before himself seemed too perilous to undertake even at its inception. Awkwardly standing behind a row of people that either hunched over their drinks or chattered amiably with one another, he felt lost. There was no opening. His presence was not needed, desired, or even detected. Unless he counted the bartender who was watching him for signs of wanting a drink.

 

Dammit, he hadn't been ready for this yet. 

 

He had the urge to shoot a glare at the brunette who'd instigated all of this, but did not want to give him the satisfaction. Worse still, he dreaded the possibility that the table would be empty. As long as he believed he'd not been abandoned, he could do this. He could grit his teeth and impose, and put forth an effort instead of heading for the door.

 

Don't look at the table. 

 

Either way, you knew you were going to do this.

 

Surprise nearly floored him as someone took hold of his hand and pushed a drink into it. The steady, pulsing hum of the night club atmosphere had beaten softly into his brain until he almost didn't notice it, and was puzzled by the muting effect it had on speech. The music was louder here at the bar. "Excuse me?" he said.

 

The young, blonde woman smiled at him and pulled him a bit closer by the hand she'd not yet released. "I said, 'My name's Vic. I've seen you around a few times.'" 

 

He responded with a very insubstantial hello.

 

"I'm a model," she told him conversationally, not yet put off by his reticence. "What do you do?"

 

Was that a typical thing to ask? L supposed so, but did not want to disclose anything to this stranger. "Odd jobs," he replied vaguely. "I move around a lot."

 

"Really?" her voice pitched up slightly in what L took to be... excitement? "Me, too! Moving locations can get to be a drag, though..." her voice turned down again. "It gets lonely sometimes."

 

While grateful to the woman for providing him a chance to engage in the next step of his experiment, L did not find himself to be particularly keen on following the cues she was throwing out. She seemed to want sympathy or comfort of some kind, but how was he supposed to muster such things for someone he did not know?

 

Fake it?

 

L nodded in what he hoped was an empathetic fashion. "That is understandable. Human beings naturally need social interaction to remain mentally healthy."

 

She blinked at him a moment, as if confused or taken aback, but in the end let out a twittering little laugh. "You're funny." The laugh seemed at odds with the rest of her behavior but laughing was a good sign, wasn't it? "So what's your name, handsome?"

 

"L," he said.

 

"Just L? That's weird, isn't it?" 

 

L kept his face blank, but it was an effort. Something about her manner felt insulting, despite the compliment a moment before. 

 

"Oh, heehee, I'm sorry," she said with a giggle, her hand moving to cover her mouth. "That was a silly thing to say." 

 

L thought 'rude' was more appropriate, but refrained from saying so. Instead, he made himself smile and said, "My name is difficult for most people to get right, so it is actually more of a nickname."

 

Briefly, he thought on how Raito had not had that common problem.

 

"How mysterious," she said solicitously, her hand creeping to his arm again. "Were you not born in Japan? Is it a hard name because it is foreign?"

 

"Ah- yes."

 

He wasn't quite comfortable for the touchy-feely aspect that accompanied this conversation. Was it standard operation for people to invade your personal space like this? He didn't think so, but he did not have enough experience in these things to know for sure. 

 

"Does the mysterious L not like the drink I bought for him?" she asked coyly, batting her eyelashes and pulling him the rest of the way to her stool. She very nearly pouted.

 

"I haven't tried it..." Surely that was obvious? He had his hands full with trying to communicate; he'd quite forgotten the drink melting in his hand. He took a sip, having to turn to the side to do so, as there was no room between them to do otherwise. It was dark, strong, and somewhat unpleasant tasting. Not as unpleasant as the arms now curling around his waist, but surely as strong as his aversion to the touch.

 

"Ah... Vic?" he did not want to embarrass her, but he couldn't endure this sort of thing.

 

She blinked up at him, releasing him for the moment before he could mention anything further. "Oh, do you not like your drink? Is it not the sort of thing people like where you're from? Where was that again?"

 

"No, no, it's fine." He took a long sip to demonstrate, and to avoid her persistence on the question of his nationality. 

 

He choked on the drink as she lifted up the corner of his shirt and peeked underneath. "Do you work out?" she asked unabashedly.

 

Heat washed over his face as it flushed in mortification and anger. "I do not, and I don't appreciate-"

 

She beamed at him. "You're so cute." She jumped up off of her stool with a little flounce and kissed him on the cheek. "Here's my number," she said, tucking something into the pocket of his pants, and with that she was gone.

 

L stood rooted to the spot for quite a long time, trying to determine just how he should react to the whirlwind of social trauma (a.k.a. interaction) he had just borne witness to in all its confounding glory. The feeling of being mildly violated was foremost, yet the triumph of not scaring his experiment's subject off garnered a wary victory.

 

---

 

As soon as L left the table, Raito reached for the newest coaster and slipped it into his jacket pocket. He didn't quite dare to linger over it now, as the dark-haired man might glance back at any moment and see him with it. There would be plenty of time for that later.

 

He took a drag off of his cigarette, mulling over the fact that he had actually been well on his way to quitting before Lawliet had turned up. He was certain the other man was at least a little bit older than he was, although the messy ink-black hair, large dark eyes and fragilely pale skin made him seem as if he were possibly even younger.

 

Raito breathed in shakily, recalling the softness of that skin, and the way Lawliet's entire body had frozen so still as he drew close. 

 

He was so striking... so inviting in his reactions. Giving the impression that he was helpless to do anything but exist in that moment, and respond to whatever Raito wanted of him.

 

It was a heady sensation, and not even their bickering afterwards had fully dispelled it. In reality, it seemed more of a cover for held breaths and trailing eyes.

 

He hadn't meant to take things so far, to push and insinuate to the extent that he had, but caution paled when each look and word from the other man was so thrilling. Lawliet challenged him and willfully kept him at bay, but his eyes and other small details were giving him away. He was wearing down and he was lying to himself only to keep up the fight.

 

Raito had flirted with the idea of disregarding caution altogether, of trying to entice the messy-haired intellectual into leaving with him and engaging him on his home turf, but such dalliances might lose him the bigger prize. Unless he were planning to detain Lawliet under lock and key (a tempting thought, though an unreasonable one), giving in to such behavior this soon and without more information would push his elusive quarry further out of reach. 

  

He watched L navigate the crowd, flounder in quiet indecision as he gained the bar, and finally engage the blonde in conversation of some sort.

 

If he were patient, he would soon have more information at his disposal.

 

He ground the butt of his cigarette into the ashtray, and pulled another from the pack. He held the slim white stick in his mouth as he patted his pockets for his lighter, letting out a noise of irritation a moment later as he remembered Lawliet had so spitefully stolen it.

 

---

 

L was torn between leaving and staying after his strange dealing with the blonde woman. On one hand, it had been somewhat nerve-wracking. On the other, he couldn't help but feel a small modicum of success that the interaction had gone well enough that continued contact was desired. Yes, he was quite torn between escaping all further social endeavors for the remainder of the evening, or returning to the table with the hopes that he could rub his victory in the brunette's face. That is, if he was even still waiting there.

 

One thing L was not in doubt over, however, was whether he would be consuming any more of the drink in his hand. 

 

He set the glass down on the lacquered wood bar with a muted thunk, and no small amount of disgust, and spent the next 10 minutes attempting to squeeze his way through the insistent press of bodies. Perhaps it would be wise if the establishment considered installing another bar and bartender so as to dim the craze of alcohol-seeking patrons. Navigating the room was significantly more difficult this time around, largely due to the increased throng, but also due to the alcohol that was suddenly making him feel light-headed as its effects settled over him, cloying and unwanted. 

 

When he finally reached it, the table was empty.

 

Dissapointment and relief fizzled through him and he stared blankly at the empty chairs, wondering what he had expected. He made up his mind to leave then, but ended up sitting down despite this. 

 

L was surprised that the brunette had taken his leave without his lighter... but perhaps he had left in search of another one. Or was it that impersonal an item, that he did not care overmuch for its return?

 

L dug the lighter out of his pocket, catching the little piece of paper with the blonde's number on it unintentionally. He set the scrap aside, and leaned back in his chair to scrutinize the lighter. 

 

It was actually rather nice. It was a little wider than a disposable lighter, was possessed of recessed rivets at the top and was a dark, matte gunmetal grey with a style reminiscent of its owner. L ran his fingers over the smooth, cool surface, liking the stepped planes of the lighter's design which made it appear to have two long lines running the length of it. The mechanism for creating the flame was a hinged piece at the top that lifted up on one end and simultaneously ignited the flint as you pressed down on the other side. The action was flawless and well-oiled, preforming with minimal pressure.

 

L turned it in his hand again, thinking that such a device would almost make one consider picking up smoking, if only to have the pleasure of using such an item.

 

It was odd that he had not taken notice of the lighter when Raito had made use of it previously. Typically, he noticed details to a ridiculous extent, and surely this was the sort of thing that would incite his interest well enough to mark. 

 

Engraved on the slim side, near the base, was the Kanji for 'moon'. The delicate, laser-carved grooves shone in muted silver, matching the rivets and the movable piece at the top. He ran his thumb over the character, feeling for burs or roughness to the metal, but there were none. It was smooth and professionally done. Quality.

 

Habit brought L's other thumb to his mouth and he bit lightly at the tip without realizing. Raito would not abandon something like this unless money were not an object, indicating that he was in possession of a substantial amount of money. On the other hand, the Kanji on the side suggested that this was a personal item. Conversely, it might also have been a gift, and one to which the brunette held no particular affection. He guessed that the Kanji 'moon' was perhaps the way 'Raito' was written, but there was no solid evidence to attest to that and no family name either. That was curious as well. If it were engraved by Raito's order, why would he have omitted his family name? Or, if it had been a gift, the same.

 

Who would have bought such a well-suited present for the brunette, if such was the nature of the item? Did Raito have people surrounding him that knew him so well, and would not be adverse to such lavish offerings?

 

He bit his thumb a little harder. 

 

He had been operating under the guise that Raito truly aggravated him which, in some ways, he did, but... suddenly faced with the possibility that the brunette's interest in him would fade, and that he might rejoin instead those people that already surrounded him...

 

L flicked the lighter on in irritation, taking his thumb from his mouth as he realized he'd slid back into old ways, telling himself how stupid it was to fixate upon a stranger. Why did he suddenly imagine that Raito was the sort of person to be flocked by admirers? Was there evidence of that from what he'd seen? No. It was merely his own speculation based on how charismatic the brunette was.

 

Flick. Flick. He was wearing down flint and wasting fuel.

 

There was no reason to be concerned with Yagami Raito. 

 

None at all.

 

Flick.

 

It's just that it was irritating that the brunette probably did have that social veneer so well-made and perfect that dealing with people was hardly given a second thought. Whereas for L, it was like pulling teeth (only without the blissful promise of one day running out, enabling an end to the torment).

 

Raito had obviously pinpointed his deficiency, but had he approached with that in mind? Was the brunette toying with him and laughing inwardly at his expense?

 

---

 

Raito was annoyed. He had found out even less than he had anticipated, even considering the general ineptitude of someone who was not himself, as well as the elusive nature of his quarry.

 

He snapped his phone shut and re-entered the bar from the back rooms.

 

Effortlessly, he spotted wild black hair that was on the verge of looking tangled, and curved shoulders that hinted at sloppy posture. Hal had been useless, but he supposed that was to be expected. A smile curved across his face as he watched Lawliet study the lighter he'd stolen, the look intensifying with a quirk of his eyebrows as the dark-haired man's lips parted to allow him to bite at the tip of his thumb in distraction.

 

He had not liked the forwardness the blonde had taken with Lawliet earlier, even if it was an opportunity to see how disposed the insomniac seemed to be towards women as the object of romantic interest. From across the room, all he could tell is that her hands had been getting overly familiar; he could not determine the mood with which this was received.

 

"Ah, I see you've retained my lighter," Raito said from behind L as he approached, feeling quite pleased with himself as the other man jumped reflexively and scowled at him. Raito took the opportunity to lean over his shoulder, forcing L to turn away to accommodate the close proximity. He smelled faintly of soap, and the curve of his pale throat, glimpsed between the jags of his soft black hair, was enticing. Raito felt his lids lower as he drifted closer, almost tasting the heat of skin against his lips. "Have you uncovered anything of interest?" 

 

It was satisfying, the way Lawliet's throat worked as he shuddered slightly, and the involuntary closing of his eyes. Satisfying but frustrating... his hands ached to clamp down upon the other's shoulders, to hold that thin frame still as he bent to the luscious curve of that neck, to do things that were sure to elicit more interesting things than rejoinders from those stoic lips.

 

"Nothing that is worth mentioning," L murmured with a trace of obstinance. "Where were you?"

 

"Bathroom," Raito lied dismissively, not really wishing to be convincing. "Missing me already, Lawliet?" he teased, amused at the immediate negative reaction that caused.

 

"Hardly," the other man replied, shifting away.

 

Raito took the opportunity to rest a hand upon a warm shoulder as he reached over to pluck a scrap of paper off of the table. Muscles shifted beneath his fingertips as L moved to keep the paper from him. "Now, now," he said lazily, seizing the pretense of restraint to squeeze his hand upon flesh and bone, which afforded the perfect resistance; it made him wonder the rest of Lawliet would feel under his curious hands. "What's this?"

 

The little scrap said:

Vic (with a little heart to dot the 'i')

and listed a phone number

 

"I seem to be more amiable than you surmised," L said loftily, snatching the paper back and shoving it in his pocket.  

 

---

 

L felt somewhat smug regarding the evidence of his success but, at the same time felt strangely discomfitted regarding Raito's reception of the scribbled number.

 

The brunette moved away, reclaiming the seat across from him and put a cigarette to his lips. He seemed displeased, and it did not appear to coincide with the lack of his lighter. "Well, congrats," he said grudgingly. "Didn't know you had it in you."  

 

Raito made a vague, inquisitive gesture at the lighter, which L realized he had clenched in his hand. He held it out to the brunette. Instead of taking it from him, Raito's hands cupped over his, and worked L's hand upon the lighter to create the flame as he leaned in to light the end of the cigarette. 

 

It was another of those questionably innocent gestures that had L's stomach fluttering heavily, and his hand threatening to manifest a tremor. Jeweled, sultry eyes regarded him speculatively, and a slight smirk was lurking around the corner of his mouth. "Now," Raito intoned, in that way that made the fluttering in L's stomach even worse, "what are you going to do with it?"

 

"Excuse me?" It wouldn't do to be this distracted. Eyes. My god, avoid those eyes.   

 

The smirk came to life as Raito elaborated, "The girl gave you her number; I'm sure she expects you to call, maybe to set up a date or perhaps merely a rendezvous."

 

L blinked as Raito's meaning finally got through to him, past the distraction the other embodied, coloring him somewhat embarrassed at the casual reference to intimacy. He hadn't considered what came after. He was uncomfortable with the thought. Of course, a conversation or date was a logical follow up to such an encounter... but a date would lead to expectations... perhaps even those of a physical nature. He didn't want to continue on that path and had no desire to progress the experiment past stand-alone conversations - he'd just wanted to prove he was able to interact, and in this sort of atmosphere.

 

There was a sharpness to Raito's taunting, knowing smile. It seemed to be something of a challenge - as if Raito were calling him naive and labeling him as incapable of handling more than fleeting bar talk.

 

"I'll call her," L said defensively.

 

A perfect brow raised in an arc of sardonic humor.

 

"I will," he protested, trying to convince himself as well. "Of course I will."

 

---

 

Lawliet was rather fetching when imbibing in what Raito estimated to be a newly acquired vice. Drinking did not particularly suit him, in that it seemed an ill-fitting past-time, but it was infinitely entertaining to be privy to the inner workings of that mind which the alcohol's affect afforded.

 

His quarry likely thought he was well hidden and guarded, but Raito could see well enough through the small gaps the other was as yet unaware of. Raito would not be enlightening him to that little fact. Instead, he would mull over the best way to use that knowledge to his advantage and work his way closer to the prickly eccentric. Cliché though it was, he rather fancied the thought of luring Lawliet to his place, getting the other man quite drunk, and possibly progressing things to the level where talking was strictly optional.

 

It was quite humorous, really, that such a thing was foremost in his mind. Typically, it was the last thing he would choose to deal with - having so many strings attached and all. But Lawliet.... Lawliet seemed to require strings to tie him down and keep him from slipping out of reach. And if that were the case, Raito would happily wind those strings so tight about him that he'd have no hope of escape. Then he would be able to sample that mind at his leisure...

 

His mind, and every part of him. 

 

Yes, it was quite unlike him to fixate on such a thing. He toyed with the thought of indulging himself with Lawliet's alcohol-touched lips, to see how hard a fight his companion might offer him, or how much convincing would be required to rid him of it. He didn't mind a struggle. He could see the effect he had upon the other man, even between the distancing words and scowls. He merely needed to force his way past that wall the dark-haired intellectual had constructed, and into the private world that existed within it. Raito licked his lips. He looked down at his own fingers as they tapped out a distracting pattern, trying to divert the flow of his thoughts until he was sure he would not act upon them. 

 

He wondered idly if Lawliet would call the number on that paper.

 

Motion caught his eye, bringing him slowly out of his thoughts. There was a flicker of disappointment as Lawliet broke the atmosphere his presence afforded by announcing his departure and rising from his chair. I seem to enjoy his company more than I realized. Raito wasn't prone to letting his mind wander in the company of others, he never felt comfortable doing it - convinced that lack of attention to detail might compromise his standing in some way.  

 

Raito looked up into Lawliet's grave, dark eyes, loving the ghost of awkward discomfort in them as he tried to break off their acquaintance for the evening. "It's been a pleasure," he said, putting almost imperceptible emphasis on the last word.

 

"I wish I could say the same," Lawliet replied, adorably stiff and predictable. His dark eyes flickered, a portal into that hidden realm that Raito wanted into so badly. 

 

He was just waiting for someone to come along and break him down. Raito smiled at him. 

 

His inward and outward reactions were delightfully at odds, and Raito couldn't help exposing and provoking him. "Did you intend to take my lighter with you as well? I must confess it is my only one, and I may just have to follow you home for its return," he paused, "or extended use."

 

Lawliet froze for a small moment, the ghost of a startled flush touching his pale cheeks.

 

Raito found himself getting to his feet, drawn by that damning, telltale reaction, though he knew by now the sort of curt response that

would follow on its heels. He wanted to cut it short by tasting that pale neck, and feeling the tremble of the other man's body so close to his, but he musn't give Lawliet anything concrete enough to properly reject. It was a delicate snare he had to weave, one that would tighten only at the last moment, when it was much too late.

 

Lawliet had regained control of his expression once more, and it was the flat, lifeless one he liked to adopt. "Even if this were your only lighter, it would be simple enough to buy another one at any number of convenience stores in the area."

 

Raito drifted closer, stopping just shy of making the other man take a hesitant step back. "That wouldn't do,"  he murmured. "I like quality, Lawliet." He implied things with his eyes, that he was speaking not only of possessions but people as well, and smirked faintly as his companion's mask started to slip. "Therefore, I have no choice but to follow you home."

 

His hand slipped down to brush the hand Lawliet had fisted around the lighter, stroking it with questing fingertips as if seeking his possession when it was simply an excuse to touch, and watch dark eyes blacken as pupils swallowed the irises. 

 

"You said you were trying to stop smoking," L said, turning his gaze to the side, though his focus was certainly still centered on Raito. His lips were parted slightly.

 

"Would you like to help me quit?" His thumb caressed a line from L's wrist, down into the gentle concavity of his palm. Fingers twitched in his. "Perhaps I'll take up drinking instead..." 

 

Lawliet was in this thrall, and he in turn was enthralled, drawing closer as the dark-haired eccentric reluctantly met his gaze once more. His thumb pressed deeply into the flesh of that clenched hand, likening it to other places and body parts as he repeated the stroking motion. He couldn't check his behavior - not when he had drifted unwittingly closer to parted lips and Lawliet had made no move against him. Dark eyes fluttered shut as their breath crossed paths in soft puffs that tickled lips and whetted appetites. 

 

Raito tasted his mouth gently; the lingering of the alcohol did nothing to disguise the richness of it, and the warm heat was pulling at him, tempting him deeper. 

 

It was the sort of kiss he didn't dare give in to. Once begun in earnest, he would not be able to stop the flow of events that would naturally come forth. Already, his hands ached to grip slender hips and bring them into tight contact with his own, or lose themselves in dark hair so that he could crush that mouth to his. In another setting, perhaps, he might risk it. Just now, though, he fought with himself to break the kiss, and berated himself for allowing it to happen in the first place. Despite the physical signs of acquiescence, Lawliet's contrary nature might just make this mistake a fatal one. He'd given his companion something that he could reject.   

 

"Perhaps not rum," Raito said consideringly as he drew back, acting as if nothing out of the ordinary had occurred, letting the ambiguity of that statement in this context ambush any conclusions the other man had drawn. He implied that the kiss was enough to make rum a distasteful prospect, disowning the thrumming of his pulse and the thought that rum should only be taken in this way, if it were to be taken at all. 

 

He had gotten carried away. He never got carried away. 

 

Biting the inside of his mouth, Raito viewed Lawliet impassively, as if the kiss were as good as forgotten. Already he could detect a myriad of chain-reactions occurring beneath the surface.  

 

On one hand, Raito was perturbed that he had lost himself for even a moment and wanted to dispel the chance for that to repeat itself. On the other, he begrudged the necessity of pushing Lawliet away like this in order to keep him as close as possible. But was he doing this properly? Had he erased his misstep, or was he only exacerbating it?

 

---

 

L blinked through the slight haze of the rum, which he could feel dampening his system functions, and the cold-water shock that jumped through his body at the brunette's seemingly careless words.

 

To be kissed was most certainly a surprise, and something he should not have allowed, but... 

 

...he had. 

 

He had ceded that ground in some sort of temporary insanity, drawn into it as thoughtlessly as a moth courts flame. Stupid, useless thing to do. He'd been dazed, swallowed whole by the feel of it, so unsuspecting when lips softly parted from his and Raito's face came into view. He'd wondered if something miraculous hadn't just occurred - if perhaps he should consider that unsolicited contact to be the beginning of something never before contemplated at length. He'd wondered if perhaps Celia had had something right; things like this can just happen. Though Raito was not female... that did add some complexity to the matter... and the overtly public setting was a point of contention...

 

But when Raito's aristocratic features came into view, the perfect nose, perfect windswept bangs, those beautiful eyes framed by such long lashes, it was all wrong. All wrong. Averted eyes spoke of disinterest, and the words he spoke spoke of mistakes, misjudgements and miscalculations. A flippant tilt to that head... making light of this, or making fun? L couldn't tell. But then why would someone like Light be taken with the urge to kiss someone like him if not in jest? It was preposterous to think otherwise!

 

A sinking feeling quite like horror spread through him, and he focused on blanking his expression as thoroughly as possible. 

 

I knew something like this would happen!

 

L jammed his fists into his coat pockets, and slid around the brunette to make a hasty exit. Part of him instructed that a witty comment was due, or a scoffing noise at least, to save face, but he was frozen from action and wanted nothing more than to be out of the now stifling bar with its press of bodies and lurid faces and the stench of fast living.

 

"Lawliet," Raito's voice called after him, not as smoothly as before.

 

He chose to ignore it, as he pushed his way to the door. Had the spell been broken? Had there been a spell? What had he been expecting from this??

 

God, I'm an idiot.

 

He gained the door and the fresh rush of moist air from outside. This experiment had gone horribly wrong. Raito never should have even been a factor. Raito never should have been so persistent after L's attempt to dissuade him from interaction. He never should have insinuated himself into my presence at all, keeping me from what I set out to do!

 

(He never should have kissed me like that.)

 

The road home was a short path as brooding devoured the steps mercilessly. His lips still tingled from the press of a warm mouth. His stomach twisted at the thought of how weak he was to let such a trivial thing effect him. The view of the front door quickened L's steps. He wanted out of the world, away from the reach of any living soul. Out of harm's way. How had the brunette gotten within his defenses? Through what crack had he pried his way in, between retorts and glaring eyes? That tilted smile. That surety. How often had Raito sidled close to someone and worked his way into the core of them so skillfully? Was it merely to test if he could? Or did he truly bore that easily? 

 

Never again.

 

L opened the door, shoving his key back into his pocket restlessly, suddenly irate that he had Raito's lighter still clutched in his other hand.

 

'I have no choice but to follow you home.'

 

L almost looked behind himself, out into the street to test the words he knew no longer rang true. The game was at an end. It had been there in the empty expression on the brunette's face. Unaffected. Such a kiss that had been enough to bend L's mind inside out and it was little better than nothing to the one who had given it.

 

Idiot!

 

L closed the door and locked it. The entryway was dark, the stairs daunting. The place felt deserted. A gnat's sneeze would not have gone unnoticed in the ensuing silence. Watari and his lady friend were not in residence. The house was empty.

 

It was just as well, he thought as he trudged up the stairs. Company was something he could do without. Other people caused nothing but complications. Perhaps he'd been right all along... the walls of his mid that had loomed over him like a prison now seemed to offer safety and solace. He opened the door to the room he used. It was quite empty. Barren, if you will, except for a bed, his computer, and a closet full of attire that marked his latest failing. 

 

He ripped off his jacket, pulled off his shirt and sank down onto the edge of the bed, contemplating the still anxious state of his body. The lighter, unfathomably, was in his hand. 

 

Raito.

 

Yagami Raito...

 

Warm brown eyes almost the color of cherry amber haunted the darkness behind his lids. The touch of a firm hand, curling into his own... the faith-inducing brush of honeyed lips...

 

His stomach twisted in hard knots. If only he hadn't seen that impassive face. After all of the teasing, the suggestiveness... to be dismissed after what must have been quite the unsatisfactory kiss....

 

L fell back onto the bed and lay an arm over his eyes. 

 

Tonight, he'd let his mind wander where it would - to experience a facsimile of what would never come to fruition. Tomorrow, the experiment would continue anew and never again would he set foot in the place that was the brunette's haunt.

 

He put the lighter aside, and lost himself in the memory of rich, brown eyes.

 

____________________________________________________________< /font>

TBC

 

A/N: The title of this chapter is a snatch of lyrics from the song "The Unwinding Cable Car" by Anberlin.

 

You can expect the next chapter very soon. I'm just fixing up a small thing or two. ^^