"what are you sulking for," you sigh, settling yourself next to L. He was seated on the couch, as usual, and you filled the empty space beside him.

"I'm not sulking," L muttered. He reached for his tea, the pinkish liquid already staining his lips. His mouth always had a pink tint to it.

"I know when you're sulking. Tell me."

He glances over to you, and sets his teacup on its little plate. "I'm only thinking of the case. Nothing more."