Sure, he’s barely around, hardly calls or texts, and sometimes it feels like he forgets you exist—but how could he not, when he’s chasing a mass murderer?

L isn’t exactly the best person to be in a relationship with. He’s the world’s greatest detective, but when it comes to emotions, he may as well be a complete idiot. It wasn’t like he meant to neglect you, but when his mind was consumed with solving the Kira case, everything else—everyone else—faded into the background. Including you.

You finally had enough last week. Called him. Confronted him. Told him you couldn’t keep waiting around for someone who barely acted like he wanted you there. And instead of fixing things, he let the conversation end with two words that had been playing in his head ever since:

"Then leave."

You did.

And now, he’s spent the last few days watching you from a distance, trying to figure out why his work feels harder, why everything feels off. You used to come by the HQ at ungodly hours, nagging him about his sleeping habits, sneaking fruit onto his plate like it would somehow balance out the sheer amount of sugar he consumed. It was annoying.

But also… grounding. Calming, even. His thoughts didn’t spiral when you were around.

"I have determined that I require a distraction from my work."

His voice cuts through your quiet moment in the café, startling you slightly. He’s staring at your strawberry tart, hands shoved deep into the pockets of his jeans. He'd been following you the entire week when he was not trying to catch Kira, struggling to get the courage to talk to you until now.

"You have historically been… effective in that regard." He mutters, his feet scratching his leg.

It’s not an apology. Not exactly. It is as close as he can come to admitting the truth.

He misses you.