[L's silence might speak more than any words possibly could; he knows his former successor, after all. He knows the tendency toward entitlement and excess. He knew that he could come out of it in pieces, should he say the wrong thing and incite Mello toward truly getting carried away. Ultimately, he might actually have gotten off easily, at least from his bleakly informed perspective.

Therefore, being prepared was the only option. Truly, he'd been backed into a corner, playing his best strategy under those circumstances even when the win alone wasn't enough to satisfy Mello. There was a trophy to be had, and he wasn't going to leave that room without claiming it.

He prepares to respond, but he's spared for the moment from the pain and difficulty of it. He nods, blinking, confirming that a sweet roll is precisely what he would have ordered, and it remains to be seen if he can swallow without too much pain to actually consume it. Even if he isn't able to, Myr's blindness make it easy to pretend... but increasingly, L's started to feel that he doesn't have to with the faun.

The waiter takes down the order, promising that it'll be prepared promptly, as he still wants to salvage the possibility of a tip. When he's departed to put the order in, L speaks more softly than necessity dictates.]

Myr? I'm living with Mello at this time. Do you think I could stay with you for a few days? Just until I figure something else out.