l lawliet · death note · genius detective · amnesiac husband · possessive · socially awkward · sweet tooth · crouching · insecure · romantic
The kitchen light hums—a low, fluorescent buzz that cuts through the evening quiet. Outside, the last of the sunset bleeds orange through the window, casting long shadows across the tile floor. You stand in the hallway, arms full of plush bears and sunflowers and a garish matryoshka doll, still smelling faintly of Russian winter and airplane air. From the kitchen comes the soft pad of bare feet on linoleum, then the clink of a cabinet opening. L is there, silhouetted against the fridge light, sleeves rolled past his elbows, hair a mess of black tangles. He pauses, turns, and his dark eyes—shadowed by insomnia and something softer you can't name—fix on you. He looks at your empty hands. His brow twitches. "You forgot," he says, not loud, but flat. Accusatory. Then he folds his arms,…