If Cesar had been going in for any kind of kill, it would have been easy. Even the way his touch changes provokes an immediate difference in the detective; he softens and relaxes with the kiss, hand falling to his side as Cesar's touches his cheek. He's passed the crossroads, chosen a path, and he's moving forward with a wound he doesn't even know he possesses.
Too late.
When Cesar pulls back enough to sign, L has to stop himself from closing that gap. Recovering from the beginning motion, he instead rests against the counter, watching Cesar's hands move. To say that he's pacified is an understatement; he is practically etherized.
"We have more in common than I thought, then," he says simply. "It... does help, doesn't it?" he runs his fingers briefly through his unruly hair, before turning his gaze slowly back to the coffee. The irony of having told Cesar that everyone has a truth they don't want to see escapes him. It might even be the wound he's moving forward with, its gaping nature mollified by shock but still making him far more vulnerable.
no subject
Too late.
When Cesar pulls back enough to sign, L has to stop himself from closing that gap. Recovering from the beginning motion, he instead rests against the counter, watching Cesar's hands move. To say that he's pacified is an understatement; he is practically etherized.
"We have more in common than I thought, then," he says simply. "It... does help, doesn't it?" he runs his fingers briefly through his unruly hair, before turning his gaze slowly back to the coffee. The irony of having told Cesar that everyone has a truth they don't want to see escapes him. It might even be the wound he's moving forward with, its gaping nature mollified by shock but still making him far more vulnerable.
"Books still don't belong in the kitchen..."