Death Note Fan Fiction ❯ PITCH ❯ Home Sweet Home ( Chapter 31 )

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

PITCH

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Light x L

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Part 30

L is a reclusive detective who takes his job seriously. Too seriously, in fact. Once he takes note of how neglected and stagnant his life truly is, he decides to make some changes. Challenges arise through an unanticipated meeting. AU

A/N: For the last chapter title, The Snake and the Mongoose.... The 'snake' is Raito, as many of you guessed, and the 'mongoose' would be Watari. Raito has been described as a snake, or as being snakelike many times, especially by Watari. And Watari would be Raito's biggest hurdle with L at the moment. I know some of you guessed it right. Good job! :)

I must apologize for the severe delay in updates. Writer's block hit me something fierce. Then, an odd thing happened. An idea for a fic in another fandom grabbed me like a mugger, and I wrote at the most frantic pace I have ever experienced. It lasted about a month in a half, then dropped me into writer's block again. Ugh. But I'll be posting a AU fic for Supernatural, called Asylum, as soon as the 19 chapters are beta'd. It is not completed yet, but I might as well get it out there in the meantime, right?

It really baffles me how I can be creatively blocked so hard on one story and yet bust out another. Hmn. In any case, in the back of my head I have still been picking at PITCH this entire time. Endings are so cumbersome to write. For me, anyway, because I am so afraid of making one that will not be satisfying. Grah.

Disclaimer: (See part 1 for full disclaimer.)

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.

Part 30: (Home Sweet Home)

L started to relax partway into his second glass of wine. He hadn't really wanted any, but Raito had spoken for him, so he accepted it. The brunet's amber eyes had been heavy upon him as the glass was pressed into his hands and they bade him drink.

He shrugged. What did it matter? He could do as his companion requested in the hopes that he would keep himself in check - and the brunet had been.

L had been surprised when Raito had accepted wine as well, being used to his habit of refusing such at his own family's home. He watched the brunet carry on animated discussion with Celia about something of little consequence. He really is quite good at such things, he thought distractedly, feeling a certain lightness of heart as Raito carried the weight of being social enough for everyone, and with ease. The tone of his voice was pleasing to listen to, and L was content to do just that, though he knew he should probably expend some effort to join in the conversation instead of just watching the brunet. His smile looked boyish just now, and dangerously close to being described as 'cute'. There was what looked like a faint dimple just above the corner of his curved lips. What a difference from the deviant smirks that were so often at home there instead.

Watari had been largely silent thus far, though it was hard to tell by looking at him why that might be. He seemed as mild-mannered as ever, and had managed not to glare at Raito even once. L wondered if he could take that as a positive sign.

"L-kun?" Celia called over to him. "Would you be a dear and help Quillish set dinner out?"

"Uh... sure." As long as it didn't involve actually making anything, he would be fine.

The apartment was rather small, and the dining area was just a few feet from the kitchen area, but the island helped to separate the two. The kitchen had a cozy, homey feel, as did much of the place. The counters were a tawny stone-like substance with small white flowers appearing here and there in an inlaid pattern. They were tidy, with a scattering of items upon them - cup with pencils and pens, a wide-mouth container holding some spoons and spatulas and things. There was also pot was bubbling on the stove.

"What am I supposed to do?" he asked Watari as the older man pulled a few things out of the refrigerator.

"The salad needs to have some vegetables chopped up--" L started feeling a panic attack coming on, especially since the large bowl of lettuce seemed to be headed right for him. "--which I can finish off." Relief. "But I'll need you to cut the bread."

"You know," L said, edging backwards, "Raito's very good at this sort of thing..."

"Your fear of the kitchen is above and beyond, L. Really it is, and it is about time you started desensitizing yourself."

"He made me stir something the other day," L offered with a jerk of his thumb, still attempting to escape. "It was nerve-racking."

Watari shoved the wrapped loaf of bread into his hands. "So you've already begun your training. Wash your hands and use the cutting board over there."

Oh, why me? He did as he was told and soon he was glumly regarding a loaf of fresh baked bread, wondering how he was supposed to dissect it properly. "You know," he tried, "in some cultures, it is common practice to merely break off pieces of bread from the loaf--"

"Just cut the bread, L."

L picked up the very large knife and regarded it like a sworn enemy. In theory, this should be quite simple. The cutting of bread - people did this all the time. The difference was, he didn't. Bread was supposed to come in a plastic sack and be rectangular and pre-sliced with mechanical precision. It was most certainly not supposed to be round, uncut, and wrapped in waxy paper. Are you even real bread? He accused it silently. I wonder.

He held the knife carefully level to the counter and pressed down, attempting the first mortal blow.

What the hell? Instead of shearing through the bread like a guillotine, the large knife was making the bread deflate under the pressure.

To the tune of his frustration, he could have sworn he heard the brunet sniggering from the table. Bastard, he thought at Raito. Like I'd ask you for help.

Sounds of steady chopping were coming from Watari's direction. L glanced over and saw that the older man was making short work of some vegetables and, currently, a cucumber. He also noticed that the knife was being held at an angle and was used with almost a sawing motion.

Ok, here goes. With this fresh, dynamic tactic, he attacked the loaf anew. The bread-shed was not pretty. Crumbs and small chunks of crust were crumbling everywhere. However, he was managing to render the thing into what passed for slices. (Mangled, uneven slices, but slices nonetheless.) He was even starting to get a little better at it by the end.

He put the knife down and noted Watari surveying the damages.

"It could have been worse," the older man said. "Good job."

"Thanks, I think."

Watari began gathering the bread into a waiting, cloth-lined basket. "Go bring the soup bowls to the table. I'll come back for the salad."

"Alright." L felt mildly accomplished at having managed the bread, but was equally cowed that Watari had served out the portions of soup in addition to finishing the salad, while he'd struggled to complete just his one task.

He carried the first two bowls out for the older couple and sat the last two bowls before Raito and himself.

Raito leaned in to speak in a low voice. "You were in a kitchen for over 15 minutes," mocking amusement coated the words. "Have your deepest fears now been realized?" The words had that slightly lascivious taint that so often infected the brunet's voice when spoken so close to his ear.

"No, but I can't say as much for the bread."

Raito moved away again as Watari returned with the large salad bowl. L started slightly as he felt the brunet's hand languidly smooth up his thigh, the sudden touch rolling through his stomach and setting it aflutter. He shot a furtive glare at the side of the brunet's head. Raito acted like he was unaware, but his lips quirked up at the edges. His hand remained where it was.

Raito--! The brunet seemed to have made a hobby out of torturing him in specially embarrassing ways. The last thing he needed was for either of his hosts to see Raito doing such a gauche thing. Raito's hand was warm and threatening where it lay resting. L willed it to stray no further.

"L-kun, how is work going, dear?" Celia asked. "Have you taken on any new cases?"

"Uh--" L choked as Raito's insidious hand slid a few inches higher and gave a squeeze. He cleared his throat, and his embarrassment, and tried again. "Nothing noteworthy has come up, though we have taken on a few new clients-" He broke off. Dammit, Raito. Now that hand was kneading the flesh of his inner thigh. God was it distracting. He hid behind his wine glass as his expression started to slip. God, it felt good. The sensation coasted all the way down to his toes.

"Did you want some more wine?" Celia asked him, noting his now empty glass. He nodded, not trusting his voice, and held it out to her. Thankfully, Raito granted him a small respite now that his shield was gone. "And you, dear?" she asked Raito.

"Yes, please."

After that, L noted Raito using his glass in much the same way - though in the brunet's case, it seemed a way to let L see him smirking while the others were none the wiser.

"How are you liking the soup?" Watari asked Raito in an almost pointed fashion a little while later. The brunet, up until this point, had been eating bread off and on with his left hand while tormenting L with his right.

L suspected Watari was onto them, and that the comment was intended to make the brunet's absent hand surface. He hoped it did, because he couldn't withstand much more of Raito's teasing. And any attempts he'd made to remove that hand had only made it more bold.

"I have yet to try any, the bread is just so delicious."

"Isn't it though?" Celia nodded happily. "It's one of my favorites, from the little shop where Quillish and I met." She beamed at the older man.

Raito used that distraction to bring his wayward hand to light and try the soup. L breathed a sigh of relief. His stomach was growling, but he'd been reluctant to put down the wine for fear of Raito embarrassing him, and had been hesitant to truly eat in case he ended up choking.

"The soup is delicious as well," Raito said. "Is it homemade?"

She looked pleased. "Why yes, it is! I made it this morning. Except for the pasta noodles, I made and dried them just this last weekend."

They went on to talk about the finer points of cooking and seasoning and such things, which L found he had to tune out or his head might explode. Bread cutting was his limit for the evening.

He turned to his mentor to make conversation. Just small talk regarding their current cases, some trivialities to pass the time. It was comfortable and familiar, but after a while, he started to get the feeling that the older man had other things he would like to discuss as well.

"L, have you given any thought to where you might want to relocate to?"

The question gave him pause, seemingly coming from out of nowhere. He rolled it around in his mind, but found he had no suitable answer to give. If he did not plan to live with Raito, he and Watari would probably need to find a place that was larger than this one, especially if Celia were to move in with them. However, if he and the brunet did live together, perhaps this place would be an acceptable size for the older couple. "Some thought," he ceded. "Nothing concrete at the moment, though." The table's other occupants seemed to have honed in on this conversation and their own had tapered off.

"Well, please consider it at length. There is no rush, but we should come to a decision in the next few weeks."

Raito's eyes bored into him, roasting him. "Of course." Likely the brunet was concerned over whether he would insist on remaining separate, especially if they would be living in different towns. They hadn't quite discussed this one thing yet, as it had been so volatile in the past, so Raito would have no idea how seriously he was considering living with him. "Are you thinking to move from here as well, Celia-san?"

"Well, I--" she looked at Watari, then back again to L. "I'd thought maybe I would. If it is ok with you?"

He tried to give her a smile, overly aware of Raito's heavy, assessing gaze. "I would not mind." And truly, he wouldn't; he was just running through scenarios in his head, using various combinations of the four of them, and wondering how soon he would need to make his own decision.

"It seems as though this is a private matter," Raito said, excusing himself lightly, a trademark 'pleasant' smile on his face. "No one would mind if I stepped outside for a moment?" He pulled his pack of cigarettes and a lighter from his back pocket.

"You go right ahead, dear."

Watari nodded his consent as well.

L felt torn. Raito was not happy. He knew that smile was a lie. Should he follow him out?

"L?" Watari was trying to get his attention. "You're staying over tonight, aren't you?"

L frowned. "Well, I hadn't thought to. I was just going to grab a few things."

Celia caught his eyes with hers. "You know that you are always welcome here, right, dear? I wouldn't want you to feel as if you can't stay here if you would like. I know I did not make the offer to you myself, that it was extended through Quillish..."

L's hands came up defensively in a calming gesture. "It's nothing like that. I would feel right at home here, thank you."

She looked relieved.

"I think you should stay," Watari said.

"But..." L chewed at the inside of his lip. He and Raito hadn't planned that the brunet would be leaving him here. It felt kind of strange.

"Do you really think it's a good idea to spend so much time together at this point?" the older man asked him. "I know it is none of my business, but being inseparable can put a strain on new relationships. You also have your work to consider. And Raito has his own matters to attend to, does he not? For his new career?"

"Well... I suppose." But Raito had made it sound as if the bulk of his preparations were already complete. The last few days had passed quickly, pleasantly. He'd been... happy. Would too much of that really put a strain on things? He didn't think so but, then again, he was no expert.

"So why don't you stay? For at least a day or two. Take some time to consider where you'll be going from here. Where you might want to move. The three of us can choose a place locally, or even move far from here. Celia is even open to the idea of living abroad."

Abroad?

"I- I need some time to think."

Live abroad again? He'd love to, but... He saw a flash of Raito's eyes, they way they'd looked when the brunet had been scrawling his number upon his arm - the poignant melancholy of them and the somewhat lost expression on his face. Thoughts were a maelstrom inside his head.

He almost felt as though events were conspiring to separate them again. Not only for the immediate future, which had yet to be planned, but even in the scope of this conversation and this evening. It made him uneasy. Watari seemed set on pressing some sort of immediate compliance from him, dragging his attention repeatedly back to the table and keeping him rooted to the spot, when his own focus had long since followed Raito out the door. It chafed him to be detained.

"I'll be right back," he excused himself, firmly forestalling the conversation, at least for the moment, so he could seek out the brunet. How strong were they at this point? There had been so much turmoil. What would he do if Watari decided to go abroad? That wasn't the sort of thing Raito would be at liberty to do with his new job, he didn't think. But to cut ties with Watari so suddenly... He'd been living with the man and working with him for over 10 years. Was it wise to change that, and so soon by living with Raito instead? What if that did put an unforeseeable strain upon their relationship?

Maybe if he talked to Raito about this, it wouldn't seem so--

"L?" Watari's voice was firm, as was his expression. He wanted some sort of acquiescence.

"Yes, fine," he said distractedly as his chair scraped back. "A day or two." Anything to release himself from the stalemate so he could follow his more pressing thoughts.

He made his way outside where the brunet was lounging against the stair-rail in the cool night air, leisurely smoking. Raito took one look at him and said, "You're staying here tonight, after all." His expression didn't change much from the pleasant mask, but his eyes looked markedly unhappy.

L frowned. "I wasn't planning on it," he trailed, feeling sort of unhappy about how things were turning out as well. "It just seems like maybe that might be best right now."

"Watari's idea?" Raito asked lightly, looking up at the night sky as he took a pull off of his cigarette. There was a kind of cold acceptance lurking there under his civility, as if he had been expecting some sort of sabotage such as this.

"Partly," L said defensively. He didn't like the insinuation that Watari was a wedge between them, though he could sort of see the basis for it. But he really did not want bad blood between them... they were both important people to him. "But--"

Raito cut him off by waving him closer with a lazy hand.

"What?" he said suspiciously, meeting the other's now steady gaze. He couldn't help it. Raito often pulled things over on him unexpectedly, especially when they disagreed on something. Often it was in the realm of kissing him senseless so that he would have no mind with which to argue.

"Just come here," the brunet said, rolling his eyes a little. His attitude said that L was being ridiculous and that beckoning him closer did not mean he was going to jump him.

He looked so fascinating in the half light, silky hair scattered artfully across his eyes, and his body the picture of languid grace. He looked utterly at home there in repose with errant drifts of wind playing at him. By stepping closer, L almost felt as if he would be entering a different world. And Raito calmly waited for him, as if he had the patience to dally there all night. It was a laughable illusion. The brunet had never had much of a taste for patience. But still, it was a compelling image.

L drifted over to him warily.

An arm slid around his waist and Raito pulled him close, their lips near to touching. The brunet's breath was warm upon them and though L kept his distance, the desire to kiss him welled up strongly. Raito made no move for anything further, just held him like that, as if basking in their proximity. It made L's head start to spin, the warm embrace, the feel of being pressed bodily against his companion and the nearness of that beautiful mouth. He was being drawn into it. Falling into it.

"It's the damndest thing," Raito said eventually, in that rich voice of his, lips brushing softly against his own, "but I do believe I might be too inebriated to drive myself home tonight."

There was a subtle query in his tone, and possessive desire which made L's belly tighten in response. It was a sweet little lie, he thought hazily, a simple but effective excuse that could easily usurp Watari's mandate without an actual confrontation. It would be easy. And then they'd have time to discuss this between themselves more thoroughly. The only thing was...

"You haven't had that much to drink, no one would believe you," he murmured back. Full lips teased his then with soft, fleeting kisses. He was starting to feel dizzy. Lazy desire was beginning to pump through his body and he was overly aware of the passionate body pressed to his.

"Which is why I fully intend to have much, much more," Raito said silkily, leaning in to capture L's lips and indulge in a deep, sensual kiss.

Maybe it was partly the alcohol that was to blame, but L found his mind taking this moment on the veranda much, much further. Desire wove intricate scenarios of heated indulgences and played them out in his head until he was nearly breathless from wanting.

Ratio's skin was hot where L's hands had unconsciously slid under his shirt. The muscles in his abdomen were hard and flat and jumped a little beneath his touch. His fingers slid lower, over the angle of a hipbone and catching on the waistband of Raito's slacks.

The kiss was becoming decidedly less restrained. One of Raito's hands was now twisting in his hair.

It was hard to think of things like neighbors seeing them or of Celia or Watari coming out to check on them. Raito felt so good, and tasted even better.

He let his imagination run away with him. Thoughts of were they might take this if given the opportunity. If he had to be stuck here tonight, he wanted Raito to be with him. No one would know what transpired behind a closed door. It would be fine. They could continue this shortly, no interruptions...

(That's disrespectful) some part of him insisted.

And it was. He knew it was.

But he couldn't help it. He couldn't resist Raito's charm. It was like an addiction.

Raito broke the kiss first, though he did so with marked reluctance. "We should be getting back," he murmured huskily, "or they are going to suspect I'm quite the chain-smoker."

"Or they'll think you're taking advantage of me," L offered in a slightly winded voice.

"Mmm," Raito agreed, nuzzling him. He seemed precariously close to continuing where they left off.

"Raito--" He pushed back from the brunet, gaining just a little distance. Forcing himself to clear his head a little and be rational. Level-headed. "Maybe it isn't a good idea if you stay here..." He could still feel the thrilling press of Raito's mouth upon his. Could still feel the want circling in his veins.

"Why?" Raito said, mock innocence coloring his indulgent tone, "Are you afraid you won't be able to control yourself?" He was smirking slightly, but his eyes were still lingering upon L's lips.

"Maybe," L admitted reluctantly. Raito was like a drug. Once he'd had a taste, it was hard to get him out of his system. He was overridden by this compulsion.

Raito laughed softly. "Oh now, we couldn't have that." His lascivious eyes gleamed with amusement and he lifted the dying stub of his cigarette to his lips.

"I need a drink," L muttered to himself as he beat down a flush. He took stock of his physical state and decided that his only hope in bringing it under control would be to maintain some distance from his companion and maybe also by applying a more liberal dose of alcohol. Intoxication worked against arousal. Or, at least, it was supposed to interfere with the functioning of certain parts if one were to drink enough. So the fine line might be between drinking too little and exacerbating the problem by merely lowering his inhibitions, or drinking too much and making a fool of himself in front of his hosts. Oh, dilemma.

"Go on," Raito said, lighting up another cigarette. "I'll be right behind you."

L wondered if he did so because the last one had been largely untouched, or because he needed a moment to compose himself.

L blanked his mind as he walked towards the door, pulling his mind forcibly from the delightful sensations that had been coursing sharply through him. He really needed to develop some resistance to this. His mind was like an iron fist of discipline in many ways, but intimacy was giving him such trouble. And it was not only his mind he had to worry about retaining control over now, but his body as well.

Was it partly the novelty of it? Would the brutal and unrelenting strength of desire pale in time? He nearly hoped so - he felt so powerless in its sway.

I mastered control over my expressions, I should be able to master this as well.

He made himself perform a quick but annoyingly complex mathematical calculation in his head as he turned the doorknob, just to refocus himself.

It did a passable job of distracting him. For the rest, he blocked out his awareness of the brunet and refused to waver from that resolve until he could trust himself again.

He stepped inside, noting that Watari and Celia were deep in discussion where they sat next to each other at the table. The older man looked up as he approached, Celia looking up a moment later. "Did you come to any satisfactory conclusions?" the British man asked.

"Not as of yet," he replied, disallowing a wince at Watari's wording to manifest on his face. Come... Satisfying conclusions... Really, how hard was it going to be to ignore the fire in his body and stop seeing innuendo everywhere? Hard. Ugh.

With mental fingers, he quickly wiped away the thoughts like accumulated dust on a book. He furthered the exercise by imagining opening that book and seeing what was on the pages. There would be rows of text. Maybe some old illustrations like woodcuts or etchings. One could be of Watari. Yes, and the text cramping the pages could be about their conversation. Living abroad. Life changes. Cohabitation...

"L-kun, would you care for some more wine?" Celia asked.

He nodded absently. "If you don't mind my asking," he said to Watari, "what made you decide you might want to live together?" He flicked his eyes to Celia, indicating that she was included in this question.

Watari shifted uncomfortably in his chair.

There was an unexpectedly lengthy silence.

During this time, Celia went into the kitchen and came back with a bottle of wine. Wiping it down with a dish towel, she glanced at Watari before deciding to answer. "I can only speak for myself, dear, but there wasn't really a decision. It just sort of came to be. The more we spent time together, the more we found it comfortable and liked it better than being apart. I started staying over, and that too felt just fine. Keeping two places of residence started to seem inconvenient, I suppose, if we spent most of our time in the same place."

"What about you?" L asked his mentor. "Was it the same?"

Watari still seemed reluctant to engage in this conversation. After a moment's deliberation, he nodded. "Pretty much the same, yes."

The man probably realized he was asking not only to inquire about them personally but to apply the knowledge to his own relationship; he really was dead set against Raito for some reason...

L looked up at Celia, processing belatedly that the bottle in her hands was unopened. "Nevermind, Celia, thank you. I don't want you to open that just for me. I'm fine."

The front door softly shut.

"Not at all, dear, I don't mind."

"I don't want to be a bother," L protested. He probably shouldn't be drinking anyway. In fact, it was kind of ironic that he'd thought nothing of taking the glass of wine Raito had handed him earlier and drinking it. After the motel, he hadn't been able to stomach even the thought of alcohol, it being so wrapped up in what Raito had done to him. And here he was right back to drinking it again, without a second thought. It was like the shortest case of PTSD ever.

"I would like another glass," Raito said politely to Celia as he gained the table. "It wouldn't go to waste." His eyes drifted back and down to L's as she set about freeing the cork. They were hard to read, but seemed to contain a ghost of regret, as if Raito had been able to read the tone of his thoughts. That solemnity usually accompanied his ruminations on his past transgressions.

Raito's gaze flickered, with the beginnings of the silent communication they often shared, reacting to his reaction, before diverting abruptly. He covered it by taking his seat beside L, but it seemed like for a moment the brunet felt exposed and had refused to allow that connection of mindspeak to engage fully.

Maybe part of the issue was time and place, aside from the fact that they had not yet spoken of the motel. L could feel that hyper focus from Raito as their gazes had meshed, as thoughts were anticipated between them and emotions were communicated subtly. There was a festering of wounds there, ignored but not forgotten. The breaching of trust, the hurt, disappointment and fear, and the events that took place afterwards as a result... it was still just beneath the surface. For both of them.

Was it escapism that neither of them seemed keen on diving into it? That they were content for the moment to pretend? Pretend that none of that existed, if only to save their relationship from what might become dissolution?

L felt a seasoned pain spark in his chest.

He didn't want to think about this right now. He didn't want to think that this was something unresolvable either. Surely they could come back to it and sort things out. But maybe that would take some time. They were only just now learning how to properly deal with each other. The last few days... they weren't falling prey to the same patterns that had been disrupting things so much before. There was much more work to be done, more habits to break, perhaps, but he was certain that now, they were truly moving forward. Their relationship seemed to be stabilizing.

And shouldn't they focus on stabilization first, instead of stubbornly hashing out the very things that had separated them? Maybe with a stronger bond, fights wouldn't be so perilous.

"Are you sure you don't want a glass?" Raito prompted him, making L realize he was repeating the question.

"I'm sorry," he said to Celia who was waiting expectantly, "I would like one, thank you." Ah, hell. He'd quit tomorrow. For now, he needed to not be so inwardly focused. It was making him feel sad and frustrated. Reliving everything... and thinking about the future... Maybe he should have this drink and then go lie down.

He didn't want to look at the brunet to his left, feeling emotion spike sharply and uncomfortably in him as different thoughts came to mind, such as whether they might always be together or if this state was merely temporary. Or how about the way Raito was so charismatic and was easily able to captivate people?

Against his will, his gaze fell upon his companion who was once again carrying on amiably with Celia. Raito's demeanor seemed open and friendly, but L knew him well enough to see that he was actually emotionally closed-off and inaccessible. There was a stiffness about him that didn't really translate into his body language. Just now, he reached over and was pouring himself another full glass of wine.

When had he drank the first?

L considered his own half glass which he had yet to touch. He felt the need now to down it and drown out the noise in his head. Did Raito ever feel like that? Was he perhaps feeling that way right now as he smiled believably and made casual short work of the liquid in his stemmed glass?

L tipped his glass back, drinking half of its contents. He thought to try and enter into a conversation with one of his two hosts, but he couldn't think of a thing to say. And to be honest, he didn't want to. Watari might speak on cases for a while (though L felt rather done on that topic for the moment), or he would bring up something involving Ratio (and he just did not feel up to doing battle on that field). He tossed back the rest of his wine. "I think I'm going to get some rest," he said lamely, addressing no one in particular. He felt bad that he didn't know the first thing about attempting a conversation with Celia, and that all he could say all night was things about the food being good or requesting libations. "There was a room that I was to use?" he asked her.

"Oh, of course," she said, excusing herself from the table.

"Sorry," he mumbled, so Raito could hear him, as he followed her and retreated from the overstimulation of being social. He was so bad at it.

They shouldn't miss him, right? It's not like he was contributing much.

"Here you go," the older woman said, taking him into the short hallway and pointing him into a bedroom.

"Thank you," he said politely. I wonder if I'll be able to sleep this off? His head felt a mess and he was unaccustomed to dealing with such a thing. This sullen hopelessness and sharp anxiety... He just wanted it to go away.

He entered the room, looking it over. It was plain, simple, clean. There was a bed against the far wall, and a nightstand with a lamp. A closet with slat style doors remained shut. Nothing was out of place. It was a perfect guest room. It reminded him of his room at home. Functional. Utilitarian. Nothing unnecessary. Unlike the opulence of Raito's old home or the disarray of his new apartment.

"L dear?" Celia said tentatively. "Were you going to say goodbye?"

"To whom?" He looked back at her, puzzled.

"To Raito-kun?" She said with a worried frown.

"Ah, no. I just need to lie down for a while. If I miss him before waking, I'll call him later." The worry upon her face didn't lessen.

"Are you sure? Are you feeling okay?"

"It's fine." He tried to sound convincing. Casual. "Raito is more of a socialite than I am. I don't want to rush him when he's enjoying himself. We'll talk later."

Apparently his powers of persuasion needed work. She wasn't biting.

"Well, it's a pleasure to have the both of you here. I mean that. Nevermind Quillish, he is still adjusting to the idea."

L nodded. "Good evening, Celia. Thank you for everything."

He closed the door gently after she left, then fell upon the bed. "Raito's going to be annoyed," he mumbled. He knew a faintly uttered 'sorry' wasn't going to cut it, but he was overstimulated and needed the cool darkness that this room offered. He desperately wanted the equalizing oblivion of sleep. Maybe with luck, he could achieve that soon.

He'd check his phone later to see if Raito had texted him or left him a properly irritated voicemail. He just needed to zone out for a few hours. He'd contact the brunet afterwards when he felt he could deal with that.

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TBC