firm_detective | Sunday Afternoon: Aftermath

When he walks into the room, L looks shaken. He's moving stiffly, and blood continues to trickle down his face from a nasty cut on his forehead; his hand is also cut. A few bruises are beginning to bloom.

He collapses into the chair closest to the door, sprawling across it.

[[Not sure where this is in the timeline -- sometime around nowish -- but L has just come from a run-in with

curtainwizard in the Hate Room. Private to

firm_detective and

misamisal.]]

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::Misa had been in the bathroom and promptly exited the room when she heard the door open and shut, then the sound of L collapsing on the furnitrure. She's surprised he doesn't look around for her as he usually does and senses something happened. Upon entering the room, she gasps::
L? -! Oh my gosh, L, what happened?!
::her face clearly full of worry, she rushes to his side, crouching next to him and reaching up her hand to gently brush back his hair::
You're bleeding! ::she quickly kisses his forehead, careful to stay clear of the cut:: Let clean that up for you.
::she turns to rush to the bathroom for first aid supplies::

*He blinks at her, seeming tired.*

I got in a fight with someone -- I think a room caused it.

*He accepts the kiss on the forehead, although it's near the place where the bowl hit and cut him, and waits for her to return with the bandages.*

::rummaging through the bathroom, she grabs bandages, anticeptic, and a warm damp washrag. Quickly, she scampers back to L::
I'm going to clean what I can first, okay? It might hurt a little, I'm sorry.

*When she returns, he drops his gaze without making eye contact.*

Yes, it's fine. When it's bandaged, ice would be appreciated.

What have you been up to tonight?

[[ooc -- looks like this will take place some time after tonight's bar thread.]]

((ooc: okay. :) ))

::gently, she presses the rag to first the cut, then wipes the blood that has trickled down his face, cleaning him, then applying a healing, antibacterial salve to the large bandage and affixing it to L's head::

How did this happen?
::she notices he quickly changes the subject. Gently, she caresses his face with her hand, strokng his hair back from his forhead::
You don't want to talk about it? You don't have to if you don't want to, but, please let me know when you're ready.
::she smiles softly down at him, then turns to retrieve the ice::

*He looks at her again as she tends to his cut, staring with wide eyes.*

My hand, too. I cut it on a broken dish.

*He has been holding it cupped against his torso, where his shirt is now bloodstained. Now, he holds it out to her; blood wells from a slim, shallow two-inch cut near the base of his thumb.*

It was a room, Misa. I think it may make you feel irrational loathing for someone, and I encountered someone I dislike to begin with.

::she tends to his hand as fell, cleaning and wrapping it before gently kissing his palm.::

::retriving the ice, she places it in a plastic back and wraps the bag in a fresh, soft towel, then walks back and hands it to L::

How awful. I'm just glad you didn't get seriously injured.

I almost did. The other party -- he seemed to think -- Misa, it seemed possible while we were in the room that we might kill each other. I had to force myself to walk away.

*He places the ice pack on his head, then looks down at the red mess on his shirt.*

I think I need to change my shirt, but... I will wait. Resting is more important.

::she hurries off:: Don't worry, I'll get it.
::she returns just as quickly with a fresh shirt in hand::

I'm glad you walked away. It must have been very difficult, considering the hold these rooms can have on us.

That's the funny thing -- it wasn't difficult at all, once I made my mind up to do it. Apparently, part of my irrational hatred for him is contempt.

*He begins to sit up, with the aim of changing his shirt, but decides to sit back again: he feels a touch of dizziness.*

I only wish I had been able to manage it before I was injured.

Oh, honey, relax first. You can change later.
::she folds the shirt and sets it down on the table, then walks behind him and drapes her arms over his shoulders, hugging him, the chair supporting her weight::
I'm just glad you're alright. Some of these rooms are downright dangerous...I seem to forget that sometimes. I hope you feel better soon. ::Gently, she strokes his arm, her cheek softly grazing his::
Would you like something to drink? I could make you some tea if you'd like.

*He presses the ice pack against his head, where there is now a distinct lump under the bandage.*

I'd like to change. I am covered in blood from my hand, but my head -- he threw a bowl at me, Misa. I'm a bit dizzy.

*He leans back into her embrace, then looks up at her over his shoulder.*

Yes, tea would be good. English Breakfast with lemon and sugar, please.

Oh dear, I hope you don't have a concussion.

::she smiles when he looks up at her and she gives him a quick peck on the lips::
Coming right up.
::she scurries over to the kitchen area and sets the tea kettle to boil, then flits around getting out a teacup and suacer, teat bag, sugar and lemon. The kettle goes off and she quickly pours the water, steeps the tea, then adds the ingrediants. After walking back to L, she holds it out to him::
I'll hold the ice pack for you. Let me know if you need more sugar or anything.

*He frowns; the tightening of his forehead pulls at his injury, so he relaxes the expression immediately.*

No, I don't think I do. I didn't hit my head when I fell; I was merely winded.

*He hands her the ice bag and accepts the tea in return.*

Thank you -- I think it's time to take the ice away for a few minutes anyway.

*After a sip of the tea, he attempts to smile at her, which also hurts.*

It's perfect.

Please, tell me what you've been up to. I'd like a distraction.

::she smiles, setting the ice in the freezer to stay cold::
Good, I'm glad.

::returning to L, she sits on the couch as close to him as she can be while on another piece of furnature::
Hmm...well, I read a little from my Plath book again, and I did a little bit of drawing, and I played a little bit on the DS. I was just in the bathroom when you arrived.

*He stands, slowly, and makes his way past Misa to sit next to her on the sofa. Sprawling again, he leans against her.*

Did you draw anything nice?
What sort of game were you playing?

*He takes a long sip of tea; he's really just trying to keep up his side of the conversation.*

::she leans forward slightly, wondering what he's doing. Then she figures it out and sits back, sliding her arm around his shoulders, her other hand gently stroking his upper arm::
I worked on a drawing of you, actually. ::she smiles::
The game was Sudoku. I'm working my way through the intermediate section right now. Hardly any mistakes so far, too, which is exciting. I hate the little noise it makes when I put the wrong number in. ::she laughs softly::

Of me? Why would you want to -- ?

*A nervous chuckle.*

As to your game, would you like me to take a look at it? It's all logic. It sounds, though, as if you are doing well on your own, hm?

::she laughs:: You're a good subject.

::smiling, she nods:: Actually, it's funny that you mention that. Every time I get stuck, I think, "I'm just missing something, keep looking." I even think about how you would go about it and try to approach the puzzle from all different angles. ^__^

I wasn't even here. You were drawing from memory? Did you -- *he hesitates* -- while you were gone?

*Another sip of tea, then a sigh.*

It is true that I'd try to approach it from different angles, Misa, but I would also probably cheat. A puzzle game is not particularly important.

Yes, from memory. Yes, a little. Sometimes, it was hard to draw, though.

::she laughs, resting her head against his shoulder:: That's true, it's not very important. Still, it's fun to work through. :)

Hard to draw?

*He nestles his head against hers; he can't take her hand, because his right hand is now bandaged.*

You're going to guess who it was in that room with me, Misa, and I want to tell you something very important -- you can't go after him. Do you understand?

::she nods:: Yes. In times of...certain emotions, if they're severe enough, it's typical for me to be unable to draw or write. Fortunetly, my voice continues, so at least I always have some way to express myself creatively.

::she pauses for a moment, then nods::
I understand. I don't think you would have fought with anyone unless a room had a hand in it. But, if he ever tries to hurt you on his own, I don't think I'll have much of a choice. Is that alright?

*He turns his head, then, and kisses her forehead.*

But it's better now, yes? There is a visible improvement in your condition.

*Another sip of tea.*

No, it isn't all right, Misa. He could hurt you very badly. That was part of our -- discussion.

I suppose I would fight with someone if I were pressed hard enough. I used to fight with Light frequently -- he punched me a lot, but I usually managed to get my own back, at least.

*He shrugs.*

::she smiles at the kiss and nods::
Yes, much better. I'm glad I'm getting back to normal.

::she sighs softly, resigned:: I suppose that's true. But...I could hurt him very badly, too. ::she snuggles against him:: I'd want to hurt him ten times more than he's hurt you.

::the way he says Light makes her assume L had fought one:: Wait, Light? The Light from your world, or a different one?

I was speaking of the Light from my world -- when we came here, and for a while before.

*He locks his gaze to hers.*

No, Misa. It isn't that you couldn't hurt him badly, it's that regardless of how badly you were able to hurt him, he would be able to return it to you exponentially.

Yes -- we are talking about a Light, but not the one from my world.

::seeing the seriousness on his face, her expression takes on a look a child might have when being slightly reprimanded. Her eyes are slightly widened and a touch of sadness creeps in around the edges. She nods, then snuggles up to him again::

I understand. Which one is it? I don't want to have to wonder about every Light I come in contact with.

*He lets out a little snorted chuckle.*

You should wonder about most Lights you come in contact with, Misa, but this one was the one who arrived a few weeks before you were sent home -- the dead one, the one who was so cruel when I was a child.

I don't want him to hurt you, and for the time being, he has a mask of harmlessness he wants to live behind. If it should come off, though -- I think he would not hesitate to hurt you, if only to hurt me, by extension.

Oh, that one... yes, I wonder about all the Light's I come in contact with. Though, usually I can tell soon after meeting them if they are harmfull or not...still, I'll try to stay away from that one. He doesn't seem to come out too often, though.

I can't seem to get away from him, lately. I think -- he resents nearly everything about me. He's childish, and he lost, and I believe he thinks someone should pay for it.

When the room magnified his feelings -- it seemed he would have been happy to kill me with his bare hands.

*He sighs, then sips his tea.*

It isn't relevant at the moment, though. We will talk about better things?

::she nods, listening to every word, cringing slightly at the mention of L being killed::

I'm glad it's over. Yes, let's talk about something else.

::she smiles:: Would you like something to eat? Or some more tea?

Yes, something to eat. It's been a while.

*He looks grateful.*

Will you show me your game? I'd like to see if I can win it.

::she nods:: Of course! ::she scampers into the next room and returns with a relatively small rectangle with a shiny read top and a black bottom::
Here you go. ::she quickly goes over the basics of where things are, then lets him have at it::
What wo uld you like to eat?

*He begins working on a puzzle, poking at the screen with the stylus.*

I think I left some German chocolate cake in there yesterday. I'm not sure what else is there.

*He frowns at the screen, which causes a tug at the cut on his forehead again. The puzzle he's working on is too easy; he changes his setting to the most difficult level available.*

::opening the fridge door, then spies two slices of german chocolate cake as well as some fruit in a bowl. She brings it all to the table along with utensils then resumes sitting in her seat next to L::

*He hands the DS back to her; he has completed his puzzle on the most difficult level.*

It is amusing enough, I suppose -- certainly preferable to the sort of day I've had.

*After accepting the cake, he begins to eat it. His day seems to be improving. On a whim, he sets the plate on the coffee table, then turns to her, takes her by the shoulders, and begins to kiss her -- first gently, then with more wildness. He breaks away to say,*

Be careful of my back -- I fell on it. I'll take some paracetamol later, for the pain.

::she laughs and leans forward for another kiss::
I'll be gentle. ;)

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Sunday Afternoon: Aftermath

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