[L's spent the better part of the afternoon in the library, dragging Light along with him to make sure he has another set of eyes as well as one of his very favorite brains to bounce ideas off of.
When it comes to the Pthumerians, misunderstanding can be so very close to total enlightenment. It's simultaneously a perfect, balanced order and a mockery of nature and justice, and who better to study with than a man who has been the very same for such a long time, now?
Two such men, perhaps.
L's shifting aside books at a desk, pausing only to rub at his forearm. The skin is doing something strange, puckering so that the hair stands on end. He shivers, but doesn't believe it's due to some draft. Nothing chilling, nothing killing, and so he grunts, straining his willowy arms to pick up a few more books than he should really safely try to carry, putting his crooked back into it. It's not the good kind of pain, but backs don't start to resemble his because their owners are great at stopping when something hurts.
Dark eyes lock onto their almost exact inversions, and later, L will be surprised to hear that what happened next only took seconds. Adrenaline, perhaps, is like that.
L's back doesn't give out, but something has to. He half-drops and half-heaves the armful of books at John as if he's found a snake into the ancient stacks, and he believes that he really, truly could make that argument.]
Library
When it comes to the Pthumerians, misunderstanding can be so very close to total enlightenment. It's simultaneously a perfect, balanced order and a mockery of nature and justice, and who better to study with than a man who has been the very same for such a long time, now?
Two such men, perhaps.
L's shifting aside books at a desk, pausing only to rub at his forearm. The skin is doing something strange, puckering so that the hair stands on end. He shivers, but doesn't believe it's due to some draft. Nothing chilling, nothing killing, and so he grunts, straining his willowy arms to pick up a few more books than he should really safely try to carry, putting his crooked back into it. It's not the good kind of pain, but backs don't start to resemble his because their owners are great at stopping when something hurts.
Dark eyes lock onto their almost exact inversions, and later, L will be surprised to hear that what happened next only took seconds. Adrenaline, perhaps, is like that.
L's back doesn't give out, but something has to. He half-drops and half-heaves the armful of books at John as if he's found a snake into the ancient stacks, and he believes that he really, truly could make that argument.]