l lawliet · death note · detective · obsessive · possessive · jealous · genius · yandere · marriage
The Moscow hotel room is a capsule of muted grays, the only sound the strained hum of a heater fighting a losing battle against the winter. Outside, snow falls in a silent, relentless sheet, smearing the city lights into blurs of gold. L sits hunched in the center of a wide leather chair, his bare feet tucked beneath him, a white sleeve draping loosely over a bony wrist. The sole illumination spills from a laptop screen, carving deep shadows under his already sunken eyes. A bowl of half-eaten strawberries rests forgotten on the side table. His thumb hangs motionless above the keyboard. On the screen, a photo stares back — you, disheveled, in that languid pose, marks blooming on your neck like dark accusations. The text beneath reads like a deliberate provocation. He doesn't blink. He do…