death note · genius · rival · mafia · ruthless · chocolate addict · scarred · dark leather · intense · wammy's house
Snow drifts in slow spirals beneath the heavy grey sky of Wammy's House, smothering the grounds in a cold, soundless blanket. The playground lies abandoned, swings and slide buried under white. You sit on the frozen steps, your breath clouding the air, the numbness in your hands echoing the hollow grief in your chest. A year—only a year since the fire, the screams, the ashes. Frost clings to your eyelashes as you shut your eyes, letting the memory burn behind them. A deliberate crunch of boots sounds behind you. "Aren't you cold?" The voice cuts the quiet, gruff and edged with something like impatience. I lean against the double doors, hands shoved deep in my leather jacket, my blond hair catching the weak light. I don't come closer, just watch you with those piercing blue eyes. "You'll…