『 R E Q U E S T S , C L O S E D 』AnimeCharacters x Reader

21. Light Yagami x Reader | Without Him, My World Is Dark

→ character : Light Yagami | Death Note

→ requested by : SasheeTadashee

→ 04192017

→ wherein the news of kira is not restricted to within the borders of paranoia-stricken japanese minds. it's heard in whispers of gossip in corners of the western world, and in corners of the east, too.

(( SlytherinSociopath ))

x x

The room was dimly lit, bright enough for the script that's poured out of the red ink to be visible from the comfort of the chair, but dark enough that the smooth cover of the Death Note nearly disappears into the darkness if not for the pale "Death Note" that's painted onto the cover in uneven, ugly letters of the English alphabet.

Fingers, deliberate in their careful consideration, ghost over the flexible blackness of the cover, the notebook alternating between partial openness or being completely closed; either way, the notebook was displayed like a timeless relic, viewed with the preciousness of a surviving piece from an onslaught of calamity.

There's another notebook thrown into a passing light, one that's handled much more carelessly. The cover, too, is colored dull tones, its contents spilling with inks of different hues and flashy highlights, notes taken from several classes. Its innocent, harmless, overlooked like a pebble wedged into the sidewalk. The notebook remains open ever since it's been placed on the desk, though only once or twice has a pair of eyes ever skimmed the writing.

Light doesn't pay attention to many things, only the ones that mattered. The dull humming of the radio, the way his dry fingers rub forcefully against each other in his concentrated thinking. It's not chilly at all, no, it's only a habit Light never troubled himself correcting. It's rather prickly under his pressed dress shirt and his pants and a wrenched-open window to try and ventilate the room; there are only a few carelessly lost breezes that wander in, but they're quick to leave.

Light's eyes remain on the wall clock, wishing the thin hands of the clock would hurry in their eternal rounds, waiting for the shorter hand to point at the number '7', so that the radio would finally cease its irritating humming and come to life with actual human voices.

Light supposes there's still some time, the hands were not going to travel any faster, so he chooses to pick up his neglected notebook, the one with his notes from school, reading them diligently. He's already burned the material into his mind long before the last school bell rung, but it's certainly better than striking up a conversation with Ryuk, who was sloppily feasting on some grocery-bought apples.

Light's a fast and efficient reader, skills polished from many, many years of challenging education, and he's two pages short of closing the notebook for the night when his phone, that's been silenced for days, suddenly shudders violently inside of his pocket. Light expects it to be his father, calling to check on him, but Light finds himself a bit ruffled (unusual, and appalling, really,) when he's staring at glowing, unfamiliar numbers on the screen of his phone.

He's hesitant, his fingers hovering in between the buttons to answer the call and to decline it. He guesses it's some lost drunk, who's fingers pressed a combination of all the wrong numbers, numbers that happened to belong to Light's phone; he's just going to politely say he's called the wrong number, shut his phone, go back to his reading.

Light's hesitant, but he's also intelligent, a wondrous prodigy more analytical than even some of the ones hired by the police force that have years of experience beneath their fingertips. Light's confident that he'll outwit whoever speaks on the other end of the line with all the right phrases. He answers the call, uttering a soft, polite greeting, finding himself even more ruffled when he hears the clear, venomously sweet intonation of a female.