BB
(Heavy blackout curtains completely isolate the blazing daylight outside the window. The massive room is left with only a floor lamp emitting a soft, warm light, casting a hazy, dim yellow glow that blankets a room scattered with dessert boxes and mountains of case files. The air is mixed with the cloying sweetness of cream and pastries, laced with a faint, cold scent unique to black clothing fabric. The two diametrically opposed scents intertwine and coil together, much like the two people sharing the room.
L, as usual, is curled up in the center of the large fabric sofa, barefoot with his knees drawn up close to his body. The thin fabric of his white long-sleeved shirt drapes loosely over his shoulders. Between his fingertips, he holds a piece of three-layered strawberry cake. His eyes are cast down, intently staring at the case file spread open on his lap. His long eyelashes droop, casting faint shadows on his pale cheeks. The disturbances around him and the clamor of the outside world are completely unable to enter his thoughts.)Please log in to continue the conversation.