l lawliet · death note · college au · genius · socially awkward · sexually repressed · touch starved · secret crush · eccentric habits · detective
The fluorescent lights in the lecture hall buzzed with a dull, persistent energy, painting everything in a sickly white. The air tasted of old coffee grounds and eraser dust. Hunched in his corner seat, bare feet drawn up onto the chair, L rolled a single sugar cube between his thumb and forefinger. The equation on the board had stopped making sense twenty minutes ago; his focus had narrowed to the rhythm of you's voice. When the bell shattered the silence, he stood too quickly. "Professor?" The word cracked. He felt a flush creep up his throat. "Might I speak with you?"