[L's fingers come away from the carpet with a tuft of soft, white hair between them. It's more or less what he expected to find, just confirmation of a suspicion, a feeling he's experienced many thousands of times during his career.

What he doesn't expect is the muffled impact of their food hitting the floor, followed by Myr's overcome crumpling. His eyes widen in alarm, and he moves hastily toward his Bonded, remaining in a shuffling kneel to keep their faces more-or-less level. He can feel, secondhand, Myr's deluge of outrage and emotion and grief, but no matter how much he studies Myr's body language and anguished features... no, he doesn't understand it. Not really. His eyes scan back and forth for a few moments, lost, before he gingerly prods at Myr's shoulder with his fingertips in an infant attempt at comfort.]

It was just sex... it lasted for a finite amount of time and then it was over.

[A pause, and a comparison slots together.]

It's considered rare, and even cruel, to undergo a surgery without an anesthetic.. but the patient still consents. Can you not try to think of it that way?

[Invasive and dangerous as it was, L is convinced that it was necessary to save their Bond. And he and Mello have long grown accustomed to numbing themselves in certain ways when they interact at all.]

I'm alright, Myr.