[L and Richard know each other, and there is mutual respect there... but kind of respect that honors boundaries, rather than calling bullshit and kicking them over for the greater good. L knows that he can rely on Richard to leave him alone when he asks, that he can in fact rely on Richard to do or bring anything he asks for. The problem is that L doesn't like to ask for things, and his moments of greatest need tend to also be his most silent. Richard helps him, and Richard is his friend, but those boundaries remain in a lot of ways. Reading Richard's book is a way to get to know the Richard the public is familiar with, a good starting point to understanding where those boundaries could someday begin and end. So far, he's still very uncertain.

His pace is brisk as he heads into a classroom, which is one of the worst ones. It smells like mold and bleach, the latter scent largely overwhelming the first. It's easy to see why this kind of work would appeal to the cleanliness-obsessed detective; he is literally healing the rot and decay that horrifies and disgusts him with abrasive chemicals that are harsh, and therefore effective.]

This has dried out well. I think the drywall can definitely go up today.

[He stifles a cough into his sleeve; unsurprisingly, he's given little thought to toxic mold, bleach inhalation, or proper ventilation. There isn't a filter mask in sight.]

...so, then you went to a different school? No school at all?

[He starts lining up the panels; he's interested, but single-minded. This project has become his work, religion and lover all in one.]