[At first, in his declining and dim awareness, L barely notices the touch, registers it as nothing more than his Bonded's continued draw towards physicality and touch... but then a jolt of electric pain stabs through him in branching tendrils. It knocks the wind out of him; for a second, all he can do is breathe rapidly and shallowly as he recovers, a subtle tremor skittering through muscles that are slow to respond to an alcohol-drenched brain's commands.]
You...
[Dark, reproachful eyes regard the SQUIP with wholehearted contempt, but there's something else there, too. A balanced equation, that peace, that reassurance that things are going exactly the way they're supposed to.
He swallows thickly, extending a hand toward the SQUIP.]
no subject
You...
[Dark, reproachful eyes regard the SQUIP with wholehearted contempt, but there's something else there, too. A balanced equation, that peace, that reassurance that things are going exactly the way they're supposed to.
He swallows thickly, extending a hand toward the SQUIP.]
You were wrong.
Do it again.