firm_detective: (heart misa)
L sits on the sofa in the room he now shares with Misa. He holds a thick novel in one hand -- he's decided to give Gravity's Rainbow another try. He is careful of the book's position: Misa is sprawled along the length of the sofa, reading her own book, with the back of her head resting against his leg.

[Private to [livejournal.com profile] firm_detective and [livejournal.com profile] misamisal; dated slightly forward.]

Better never to have met you in my dream than to wake and reach for hands that are not there. - Okomo no Yakamochi

Date: 2008-09-24 05:24 am (UTC)From: [identity profile] misamisal.livejournal.com
::Misa is reading her Sylvia Plath poetry book, head leaning against L's warm leg, when suddenly she lets out a long yawn::
Hmm...I guess I'm getting tired. ::she smiles up at him:: Enjoying your book?

Date: 2008-09-24 05:35 am (UTC)From: [identity profile] firm-detective.livejournal.com
Mm?
Oh.

*He closes the book, marking his place with the tip of his index finger.*

It is easier to follow than it was when when I was sick a while ago, but not much easier.

Almost bedtime now, I suppose, but I think I will read for a few more minutes.

Date: 2008-09-24 05:39 am (UTC)From: [identity profile] misamisal.livejournal.com
::she sits up and gently rubs him leg::
Alright. I'm going to go brush my teeth and get ready for bed. ::she pressed a soft kiss to his cheek, then hugs him quickly::
I love you.

::then she stands and nearly skips into the next room::

Date: 2008-09-24 05:46 am (UTC)From: [identity profile] firm-detective.livejournal.com
*He returns her hug and kiss, giving her a tiny, close-lipped smile, and watching her affectionately as she goes to prepare for bed.*

*After she's left the room, he opens the book again, concentrating on the page. Small shuffling sounds come from the adjoining area every so often -- a door, a drawer, running water -- but they don't disrupt him.*
Edited Date: 2008-09-24 05:46 am (UTC)

Date: 2008-09-24 05:56 am (UTC)From: [identity profile] misamisal.livejournal.com
::after she leaves the room, she peaks back in on him, smiling softly. She takes out her camera, glad she had set it on mute long ago, and quickly takes his picture without him noticing. She smiles brightly at the photo. She knows when they return to his world, she'll likely have to delete all the photo's she taken while being here, but for the moment, she can keep them without worrying.::
::Quietly, she slips the camera into her messenger bag, then enters the bathroom, opening the drawer for the toothpaste and retrieving her tooth brush. After sliding a glob of red toothpaste over the bristles, she runs the brush under water for a quick moment, then raises the brush to her lips. Before the bristles can even connect with her mouth, there's a soft woosh noise, and suddenly, Misa isn't standing there anymore. Mysteriously, her bag in the other room has disappeared as well.::
::All that's left in the room is the echoing clink of a tooth brush falling against the tile floor.::

Date: 2008-09-24 06:30 am (UTC)From: [identity profile] firm-detective.livejournal.com
*He continues to read for a few minutes, to the sounds of Misa getting ready, and then he notices something that filters in through his senses: although the water is running, there are no sounds of activity. He calls out to her,*

Misa?

*No answer.*

*In what feels like one movement, the book is closed and on the coffee table, and he is on his feet, headed for the bathroom. When he reaches the door, he calls her name again -- "MISA?" -- and again, there is no response.*

*There are several possibilities, but he knows, somehow, what he'll find when he opens the door. Not exactly -- not the toothbrush -- but the absence. The sinking feeling is there before it even has a real reason to be.*

*The first places are easy to check: she is nowhere in the bathroom, not in the cabinets too small to hold her, certainly not behind the glass doors that hide the bathtub. He turns off the faucet taps. The bathroom door is open, now, and she would not be able to leave the room without him noticing.*

*He leaves the bathroom and checks the closet: still nothing, even when he presses and knocks on the walls. He returns to the bathroom and does the same, with an identical lack of results. Then, in the bedroom, where he notices that her bag is also gone.*

*Although he knows he won't find anything, he even looks under the bed. It's a pointless exercise, of course; when he's satisfied that she isn't hiding there, he sits carefully on the edge of the mattress, puts his elbows on his knees, puts his face in his hands, and begins to think.*

*The most likely explanation is that she's somewhere else, now -- he can't say where. Most people who leave seem to be sent back to their own worlds, but he's heard of people moving from situation to situation, other places more or less like The Mansion, never going home. Either way, it's possible that she's gone forever.*

*The sinking feeling has been replaced by something else, a dull anxious ache with the occasional sharp flare, like a forewarning of disaster, like a slap in the face.*

*He no longer feels like sleeping.*
Edited Date: 2008-09-24 06:31 am (UTC)

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