[On his own, L would not have broken the kiss. On his own, L would have taken it further, taking and taking and taking until there was nothing left except the urge to collapse and sleep and continue to cling. It's up to Light, in the end, and he's able to draw away even as L leans after him, some haunting spirit magnetically drawn by a compulsion too powerful to die with his body.
Because, that's what's going to happen, in their world. Before the day they were both taken from has even ended, L will draw his last breath.
We can blame the potion... that's the safety net, the mask to save both of their faces. But L doesn't want to; he's high on the truth, fairly giddy with it, and the threat and chaos only make him feel more alive. In many ways, only Light could possibly do this to him, this coveted thing that he chases and obsesses over and died for.
The color is high and bright on L's typically ashen cheekbones. He withdraws his arms, curling them closer to his core when Light draws back. The truth hangs between them like a banner; they have chemistry, proven when it was only hinted at before when they rigidly adhered to the propriety the case demanded even as they were never more than six feet apart.
He raises a hand to pass across the dampness at his lips, fingertips brushing brushing them dry. So cool, so collected; not undone at all.]
When we go back...
[I'll die, in your arms. And then you'll die like a dog.]
It won't matter, in the end, of course.
[You are never going back, Light Yagami.]
It's very liberating to realize that certain things don't matter...
[A hint, but a teasing one. It's likely that if Light leaned in for another kiss, L would rebuff it just to make a nasty little point.
He whispers his next words.]
Veritas liberabit vos.
[How might the magic of this world translate "the truth will set you free?"]
no subject
Because, that's what's going to happen, in their world. Before the day they were both taken from has even ended, L will draw his last breath.
We can blame the potion... that's the safety net, the mask to save both of their faces. But L doesn't want to; he's high on the truth, fairly giddy with it, and the threat and chaos only make him feel more alive. In many ways, only Light could possibly do this to him, this coveted thing that he chases and obsesses over and died for.
The color is high and bright on L's typically ashen cheekbones. He withdraws his arms, curling them closer to his core when Light draws back. The truth hangs between them like a banner; they have chemistry, proven when it was only hinted at before when they rigidly adhered to the propriety the case demanded even as they were never more than six feet apart.
He raises a hand to pass across the dampness at his lips, fingertips brushing brushing them dry. So cool, so collected; not undone at all.]
When we go back...
[I'll die, in your arms. And then you'll die like a dog.]
It won't matter, in the end, of course.
[You are never going back, Light Yagami.]
It's very liberating to realize that certain things don't matter...
[A hint, but a teasing one. It's likely that if Light leaned in for another kiss, L would rebuff it just to make a nasty little point.
He whispers his next words.]
Veritas liberabit vos.
[How might the magic of this world translate "the truth will set you free?"]