I Know Your Secret-Death Note

Who Are You?

       He tugged a shirt over her head and watched her pouting face pop out from the collar. 

       "I can do it myself." She grouched. 

       "Shut up and let me take care of you." She huffed at his smile and looked away to her the subtle curve of her own pink lips.

       "Can you stand?" He asked. Ori just waved him off.

       "Yeah yeah, I can walk; I'm not a cripple."

       "You used to be." He gave her hair a ruffle. This was nice. In her room, they weren't Maggie Cobb and Ryuzaki; they were Honey and L. 

       She pushed at his hands, then opted for taking the long digits in her palms. He watched her in confusion as she stared at his hands. She held one up and flattened her palm against it. Her fingertips barely reaching his second knuckle.

       "You're hands are so big." She said with a chuckle. 

       'Cute.' Was the one word that came to mind. Instead, he brought his hand up to brush under her eyes with his thumb. The circles there were purple and bruising. 

       "You need to rest." He told her; she just shook her head and took his hand again, kissing his palm before raising herself to her feet.

       "We need to sort everything out with Misa and Light. I'll sleep later." She led him from the bathroom and through her bedroom to the door.

       "Honey-" She whirled on him, releasing his hand in favor of putting her own on her hips. Her eyebrows were scrunched together.

       "Don't go picking me over the case just yet. I've wasted a lot of time." Her tone was finalizing. L just rolled his eyes and let her take him back to the security cameras. Well, they didn't get to the cameras right away. As soon as the elevator door closed on them, Ori was gripping his shirt collar to yank him down and catch his mouth on hers. L felt a rumbling groan vibrate through his chest and up his throat. She licked into his mouth, tasting, pulling, nipping, and tugging until their lips were bruised red and tender from their lip lock, but neither cared. There were ten floors between Ori's room and the camera room. L figured they'd have two minutes tops.

       He tangled his hands into her drying curls, feeling them slide through his fingers. Ori had her arms thrown around his neck and gently tugging the hair at his neck. He could feel his hands shaking from the effort to take her by the hips and pin her to the wall; he was mindful of her back. L enjoyed kissing Ori. It felt like there were fireworks exploding in his head, leaving him buzzing with warmth. Was this what it was like to be intoxicated? If so, L understood alcoholics now. 

       He liked the rushed, hungry kisses that left him breathless and dizzy, but he wanted to slow down, savor the small snippets of time they had together. 

       He slid his thumb over her mouth, briefly disconnecting them. 

       "Slow down." He said. His voice sounded different in his own ears, raspier,  heavier. "I don't need you passing out in the elevator." Her laughter was quiet and breathless, sending little zings racing down his spine.

       "Who said anything about passing out." She kissed him again, slower and softer. Her pulse fluttered like butterfly wings under his fingers.

       "Come to my room later." He said, kissing her cheeks and nose, trying to count the many freckles that looked like they'd been plastered there by a paintbrush. They were darker than they used to be, now looking like the ones on the little girl in that picture in Vivian's kitchen. They used to be pale, blending into her skin, but now they were dark and scattered like stardust.