Sweet Little Lies

Simplifications

"Light, 𝑾𝑨𝑰𝑻 𝑨 𝑺𝑬𝑪𝑶𝑵𝑫!!"

Matsuda stopped abruptly. Halting the senseless attempt at his wildly ambitious escape. Waving frantic hands in front of him, he gestured hectically for Light to cease the pursuit. But the boy was so determined to reach his goal, so lost within the objective to prevent the panic-stricken man, from reaching the vicinity of his father. That unfortunately, he hadn't yet deciphered the proper workings behind the newly installed break system. There had been no prior arrangement for a test run to Light's new vehicle of unrivalled speed, that run on the fuel of the young man's tenacity, to be completed. So the two pairs of brown eyes widened in fear, at their accepted fates of an imminent collision, because there was no way, that Light was going to be able to stop in time.

"𝑨𝑯!"

The men crashed into each other, rolling to the floor in a heap of embodied anxiety. It felt strange, to run. The boy hadn't done it since he was attached to Ryuzaki...𝑹𝒚𝒖𝒛𝒂𝒌𝒊!! Where 𝒘𝒂𝒔 L? Light needed him..desperately. This was a conversation that needed to happen between the three of them.

Light looked down the hall to see the detective, plodding the distance lethargically, the chain dragging at the floor after him. The boy sighed in relief, though it was pathetic, he was 𝒈𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒕𝒍𝒚 perturbed - to the point where he felt eyes sting in reaction to the unwelcome lump in his throat, rising with emotion from the unexpected disturbance.
This was a 𝒄𝒐𝒎𝒑𝒍𝒆𝒕𝒆 disaster. The weeks of progress, working toward Light being less guilt-ridden with shame, over who he'd unwillingly developed feelings for...𝑹𝒚𝒖𝒛𝒂𝒌𝒊, crumbled like aged, old stone. The magnificent structure of feeling, was bulldozed by the white-faced; horrifying realisation of what Light had 𝒂𝒄𝒕𝒖𝒂𝒍𝒍𝒚 been doing all this time.
Every possible ramification of their intimacy, sharply penetrated the boy's brain like a weapon. Unable to shut out the images of scrutiny, of judgement; disappointment from his brain. Suffering, within the disgusting colour of catastrophic repulsion - that muddied the pretty visions of bliss the duo had created together. It was a thick, murky, drowning substance; negativity. A concoction of defeatism, gloom, and hopelessness - which Light had no idea possessed the strength to murky the crystal waters of perfection that L had impeccably filtered with his endearing presence, with the pollution of humiliation.

It turns out the flame of fondness was more fragile than Light had predicted. Though he cared for the detective...the boy felt his troubled bones reluctantly retreat back to the depths of denial, the deep, unreachably safe, cavern of rejection. Where the smallest of suggestions, partaking to emotion, sentiment; 𝒂𝒓𝒅𝒐𝒖𝒓 - was refuted.

Although Light was aware Matsuda sat in front of him, the boy couldn't look. Eyes were only able to stare downward, analyse the hand that clenched the carpet of the dimly lit hallway, one amongst the dozen others that made up the maze of headquarters. The many intricacies meant to keep 𝑲𝒊𝒓𝒂...in his cage.

Maybe L was right...it was so much worse than Light had thought. The world wasn't ready for them, and they weren't ready for the world. Was an extensively fortified enclosure, the only haven in which their friendship was able to blossom? The boy hadn't been ready for others to know yet...he shouldn't have been intimate with L, anywhere other than their bedroom. He was gross. Light couldn't even look at his reflection within Matsuda's eyes. He had no idea what his expression was...what he was thinking. He was probably mortified and would never see his exceptional, Chief's son, and friend, in the same way again.

Light was frozen, in a stunned trance of trepidation. Thoughts racing for possible clever explanations, escape plans, excuses. However there was no reasonable clarification...but the terrifying truth. The boy couldn't face it alone, so when the alleviation of L's company decided to finally show itself, to sit next to his trembling counterpart...Light could do nothing but squeeze arms around the older man's torso, eyes forced shut to match. It didn't matter how it looked, the detective's body was grounding. A constant, comforting presence that Light could rely on to be consistent. That is what he needed right now.