Lawlight

Part 4

L was used to sleepless nights. His mind never stopped, constantly whirring like a well-oiled machine, processing every detail of the case, every word, every twitch of the muscles in Light's face. Sleep had become a distraction—a luxury he couldn't afford while Kira remained elusive. And now, more than ever, with the prime suspect literally chained to him, he couldn't let his guard down. He had to be alert, hyper-aware. There was too much at stake.

Light-kun... even now, I can't figure you out completely.

L sat hunched on the edge of the bed, his legs drawn up in his usual posture, as he watched Light. Light, who was ostensibly innocent after his stint in confinement, but who still puzzled L with his calm demeanor, his perfect responses. It was too perfect. There had to be something—some slip, some crack in his armor.

But Light never faltered. And that, in itself, was suspicious.

From the moment they had been cuffed together, Light had maintained an outward appearance of cooperation. He had even smiled, acting as though he found L's constant surveillance annoying but understandable. L knew better, though. No one, especially not someone as proud and meticulous as Light Yagami, could remain unaffected by such intense scrutiny for long. The tension had been mounting for days now, simmering just beneath the surface. He could feel it, like a predator waiting to pounce.

He thought he could mask his irritation, but L saw through him.  And yet, he wasn't Kira, but he had to be.

L had never been wrong before. Not once in his entire career. His mind always worked two steps ahead of everyone else, seeing patterns where others saw chaos. Light Yagami, however, defied all of that. He was the only anomaly in a sea of predictability. That's why L couldn't let him out of sight, not for a second. Even now, as L sat cross-legged on the bed, watching his every move, L could sense the discomfort radiating off him.

He had been deeply unsettled after the shower incident. Good. That meant the subtle prodding, the physical invasion of his space, had worked. It was a delicate balance—pressing just enough to make him uneasy, but not enough to push him away. I wanted to keep him on edge, make him question every little gesture, every word. It was fascinating to watch him recalibrate, to see how his mind spun when it felt under siege.

And tonight, it was almost palpable. Light had been on edge. He hadn't said much after they returned to the room, but L could sense it—the frustration, the unease. Light was trying so hard to mask it, but L could read him. Every subtle change in posture, the way his fingers flexed before he spoke, how his breathing hitched just slightly when L got too close. L thrived on these small details, cataloging them in his mind like pieces of a puzzle that he was slowly assembling.

Yet... there was something else too. Something he couldn't quite name. Light's body language had been clear enough—defensive, wary—but his reactions to L's probing hadn't been what L expected. Instead of outright hostility or panic, there had been a strange sense of... curiosity, almost.

L wasn't immune to it either. He had been fascinated by Light from the moment they met, but now that they were forced into such close proximity. The shower... touching him, feeling the tense muscles under his fingers—it had been an experiment, just like anything else. An observation. But the way Light had reacted, the way his skin had shivered under L's touch, had sent an unfamiliar sensation through him, something... unexpected.

It's dangerous, L thought to himself, staring at Light's profile as the other boy lay on his back, staring at the ceiling. His body was rigid, his hands resting on his stomach in a calculated, almost forced relaxation. 

Light was trying to sleep now, though L knew he wouldn't succeed. Light was too aware of him. His body, usually composed and in control, betrayed the tension. His breathing, though slow and measured, was not the breath of someone relaxed. L could feel the ripple of energy in the air between them, like the pause before a storm. Light was anticipating his next move, and that anticipation was exactly what L craved.