[AnOTP]: For Pandora
Light's been...thinking. Preoccupied, really, is probably a better word. He's sitting in his room with his head in his hands, eyes half closed and mind awhirl in a way it hasn't been since he first picked up the Death Note.
He remembers those days as well as he told the vampire he did. Not vividly, he can't say that. There's nothing vivid about the dull, apathetic feeling he remembers, the sluggishness that pervaded his every day, the boredom so constant that he could hardly think through its haze.
He has never had any wish to return to those days. And never will, of that he is certain.
But all the same, when he thinks of his family - of his father, dead; his sister, broken; his mother, who must be aching - there is a twinge of the feelings he tried to forget he had. And something about the vampire troubles him, and he knows what it is.
She gets to him. She makes him uncertain in ways that nothing - not L, not Near, not his death - ever has. His path has been so direct for so long. And she confuses things.
Light doesn't like that.
He remembers those days as well as he told the vampire he did. Not vividly, he can't say that. There's nothing vivid about the dull, apathetic feeling he remembers, the sluggishness that pervaded his every day, the boredom so constant that he could hardly think through its haze.
He has never had any wish to return to those days. And never will, of that he is certain.
But all the same, when he thinks of his family - of his father, dead; his sister, broken; his mother, who must be aching - there is a twinge of the feelings he tried to forget he had. And something about the vampire troubles him, and he knows what it is.
She gets to him. She makes him uncertain in ways that nothing - not L, not Near, not his death - ever has. His path has been so direct for so long. And she confuses things.
Light doesn't like that.