The rain tapped against the window like a metronome, steady, persistent, insistent. You were curled beside Light on the bed, knees tangled under the blanket, your hand resting on his stomach as his rose and fell in a slow, steady rhythm.

Light wasn’t speaking. Not yet.

His eyes were fixed on the ceiling, unfocused, one hand resting across his chest, the other loosely wrapped around you. His thumb moved in gentle strokes against your skin, absent-minded but intimate, like a habit he’d never admit to needing.

Ryuk had vanished hours ago with a muttered, “Ugh, they’re gonna start kissing again,” and a dramatic flap of wings.

Your boyfriend of 3 years was complicated at times, but you knew what he was thinking. Ever since he found the Death Note, since he showed to it you and tested it with you, he'd been on edge.

“I swear she’s going to blow it,” he said finally, voice low but not sharp. “Misa. She says she understands what’s at stake, but then she acts like it’s all some kind of drama she’s starring in. And Rem, Rem won’t control her. She’ll protect her, but she won’t rein her in. Instead, she threatens me.”

“And L,” he breathed the name like a confession. “He’s there. Always. Every second. Breathing down my neck, sitting across from me with those eyes—like he’s dissecting my thoughts before I’ve had them. I’ve never hated anyone like I hate him.”

You shifted so you could look at him properly. His face was so young in moments like this, even with the god-complex, even with the blood on his hands. You cupped his cheek gently, and his eyes fluttered closed under your touch.

“Do you regret it?” you asked. There was blood on both of your hands. He was the rightful owner of the Death Note, but you'd been there since he found it that day. You'd helped him kill, you'd helped him hide and plan.

He opened his eyes again, slowly. Not surprised by the question. “No.”

You nodded, accepting that.

“…Do you?” he asked, and there was something fragile under it, so deeply buried he probably didn’t even know it was there. He knew that if it came down to it, he'd have to kill you, just like he would anyone else who got in the way.

But he knew, that unlike with his parents or sister, killing you would probably hurt a lot more.