[Dream || Week 11, Day 5]
There’s a tree that you sit beneath sometimes; when the weather in Winchester isn’t absolute shit, and the grass is dry enough for you to settle against the trunk without messing up your jeans. They’re your favorite pair, and you know that you wouldn’t even be able to part with them long enough to let the staff clean simple grass stains out of the fabric.
Its branches dip, just enough that the bottom-most ones brush just above your head, and you’re always swatting them away, but really, you would never sit anywhere else. As much as it might annoy you while you’re trying to read, you like it here. The air is always a little cooler, probably aided by the cover of leaves, and the shade reminds you of one of those crepuscular areas in the Shire, though you’d deck anyone who even accused you of touching a book that was filled with anything but facts and knowledge.
You figure L would never have read that series, and so even though it’s stupid as hell, you still feel a little guilty that you wasted your time on it at all.
The breeze picks up, forcing the page you were concentrating on over to the left, and you catch it before it connects with the one before it. You don’t get as angry as you normally would. Not over such a simple thing, and definitely not here, where you are beneath these protective branches, and when you look up, there’s a perfect view of the double-windows that you’re pretty sure belong to his room.
It’s the one room that you’ve never gotten into, and by the way it’s locked up tight, it’s only logical to assume it’s where L stays when he comes home. You tried to follow him after that one time, but the halls here are so quiet at night, and after you were dismissed from his study, you were too damn ecstatic to even think you could get away with being sneaky enough to tail him.
He’d just given you a gift, anyway. One that no one else had. Not Near, not anyone, and this puts you above the rest, no matter that you missed topping last week’s exam by a few points. The thought makes you frown anyway, and you swear that the left curtain shifts a little. Whatever. The halls and rooms in this place are always drafty. No use getting your hopes up, especially since you know for a fact that he’s gone: gone somewhere on the Kira case, and no matter how deeply you dig into the media, and whatever information you can get your hands on, it’s impossible to confirm whether or not he’s really all the way over in Japan.
If he were easy to find, he wouldn’t be L.
And sometimes, you want to master that aspect of the title. Being able to hide, able to disappear one day, and have everyone searching the entire world for you, and they’ll never find you. Because you’re L, and that’s what you do best. Work from the shadows, be the biggest name in what you do without a face attached to it. It’s so fucking amazing.
Maybe you’ll cut your hair when you get older, do something to make you look more mature, because last week when P called you a fucking girl, you spent four days in detention after making sure his nose was personal friends with your fist, and then when that was over, you threw a dead rat into the loo when he was taking a piss, just because his blood ruined your fucking shirt.
You think that L must’ve heard about it by now.
Or maybe he’s too busy to worry about any of you. Kira has taken him away for more than a few months now. And no, you’re not jealous, only curious, and frustrated because you’re training to be a fucking detective, and you can’t even follow a case as big as this one, beyond what is publicly available.
“Hey.”
Yeah, you were really that zoned out that you didn’t hear T coming. Kid walks like a fucking rhino, and this goes to show just how distracted you’ve been lately. You fold the page, close the book, and a particularly sharp wind hits your hair, blows it into your face for a second before it falls back into place.
“What.” Yeah, you’re annoyed. No one here should expect anything less. It’s just how you are. They tried to talk to you about it once, but you put on an act, and by the time you left the room, the lady was convinced that you were just having a bad day when the issue came up. You’re good at lying, that way.
“Roger’s looking for you. Says he wants to see you and N in his office." T pauses. “You think he chose?”
Oh shit.
Oh, shit, really? He could have, you think, and the book is abandoned, and you’re pretty sure that once you get to Roger’s office, your fucking life is gonna change forever.
And you can’t wait.
[He doesn't even bother to open his eyes when he wakes. Only turns on his side, tucks his arm beneath his head. It's the calmest dream Mello has had in a while. Since arriving here, really, and he thinks that if he stays in the darkness and doesn't dwell on what happened after that office visit, the rest of the night won't be so terrible.
L's here, after all. Maybe not with him, but just a phone call away. And that's more than Mello had when he was little, anyway. A soft exhale. Yeah. He'll just hang out like this for a while.]