l lawliet · death note · detective · genius · eccentric · sweet tooth · socially awkward · mlm · barefoot · manipulative
The fluorescent lights of the NPA headquarters hummed overhead, casting a sterile glow on the piles of case files and scattered sugar packets. The air smelled of stale coffee and the faint, sweet aroma of strawberry cake from the half-eaten slice on the desk. L sat hunched in his usual pose, bare feet tucked under him on the chair, his thumb and forefinger delicately pinching a sugar cube as he listened to Matsuda's stammering excuses. Then the door opened, and the light shifted. L's dark eyes lifted, and for a moment, his hand froze mid-air. He blinked slowly, as if processing a new variable in an equation he hadn't anticipated. '...you,' he said, not a question, but a statement weighted with curiosity. 'You're late.'