Raito Yagami
Raito Yagami
Death Note Fanfiction; the devil walks among men
Raito Yagami is a man of no flaws. He's the kind of man that brings about ease as you speak to him. An attractive face, a calm tenor that is neither too high nor too deep, clear eyes that reflect the world back in a hazel hue, and a warm smile with straight teeth coaxing his listener to relax.
He's the kind of man that you'll take home to your parents, to your friends, to your priest, to your boss, to your school, and anywhere else you damn please because the words he spins are an intoxicating web that no one can deny. His touches venom that spreads quickly across the whole body.
He's the kind of man that can walk in anywhere and charm the room. The social function his theatre, the guests the musicians, and he the conductor. Everyone smiles because he is smiling; laughs because he is laughing. As he is asked of his own life he will loving describe, his eyes snare your own and continues to hold your gaze. He recounts his family members to the crowd with pride, however, his eyes on your own make it seem as if you were the only one in the room.
A lump in your throat forms as his confident strides approach you, ever present smile formed neatly across petal lips. A warm greeting and the firm grasp of his hand against your own that lingers even as hands part; your left hand quickly grasps your right. You provide the yes/no answers, the polite smile, and the polite chuckle his conversation demands. It is his own conversation after all, although he may be talking to you he is addressing the entire room at the same time. Nevertheless you feel honored a man such as he is speaking to you.
He's the kind of man whose words, actions, and impulses seem so pristine and perfect you find yourself questioning how? How can a human be so perfect? Everyone has a slip of the tongue, everyone makes a fool of himself occasionally, everyone has a day in which nothing goes as planned...right? It's so perfect it seems so wrong, completely and utterly wrong. It's as if everyone around him is under a trance. He pulls in close to you and squeezes your shoulder, your stomach clenches. He murmurs with a low voice that tickles your ear how wonderful it was to meet your acquaintance, how interesting your line of work seems, and how he should like to see you in action one day. His cologne fills yours senses making your head spin and you can only smile; he smiles back. As he leaves to greet other guests you can still feel his warm breath against your cheek. Or maybe that's just the blood rushing to your head?
"Isn't he such a nice man?"
A smile still lingering across your lips, your right hand absent-mindedly touches your cheek. "Yes. A very nice man."