One of L's brows raises very slightly; coming from anyone, it might sound condescending. Coming from an 18-year-old is... perhaps more so. Rather than let it bother him, L considers how to use it, as he always has when others underestimate him or consider him in some way naive or ignorant. It can be powerful; it can be a tool. At the very least, it can be a surprise, because under the SQUIP's tutelage, he was in fact a quick study, and is probably in a position to teach Light something.
Absurd notion. More absurd that it occurred to him, however passingly, but maybe it shouldn't surprise him. A person doesn't have to be hyper-sexual to register others around him and consider their fitness as potential partners, even if the process is mostly subconscious. Even if, in L's case, a follow-through is rare; he is a bleak realist, regarding his own fitness, and aware that most do not consider him a sexual being. Both of his partners had many points on him in terms of physical attractiveness; both were also somewhat extenuating circumstances, considering one was a supercomputer in optimized human form and the other was an obsessed idol-worshiper pushed to a breaking point.
"I navigate very little without care," he says pointedly. "Casual relationships aren't of much interest to me, which is why I prefer to devote my energy to my Bonds. As I mentioned before, it's not uncommon for people in Bonds to engage each other in other ways, including physically, but it's by no means a requirement or even an expectation."
Vague; perhaps to be expected. L's relationship with Myr is complicated and requires thought and aching effort. L brings many uninvited companions to their shared bed: melancholy, guilt, the crushing sense of being broken or unfinished, inadequate, not good enough. He feels that he is likely an object of pity, on a good day, rather than one of desire, and that Myr has seen him at his most vulnerable and compromised can't exactly help matters.
Like after Mello.
Though he's successfully etherized himself to the last time he slept with someone, to an extent, he can't quite keep a dark, cold shudder from snaking along the chain binding them in the form of the Bond. Light can't not notice it, and it requires some kind of explanation. Rather than insult Light by forcing him to ask, L speaks.
"I haven't been with anyone that way since last winter. As such experiences go, it was cumulatively a negative one, and other priorities have diverted my thoughts from acquiring more experiences, since."
A relatively sterile explanation, all things considered. Myr gets to see L vulnerable and compromised; Light is unlikely to be afforded the privilege, Bond notwithstanding.
no subject
Absurd notion. More absurd that it occurred to him, however passingly, but maybe it shouldn't surprise him. A person doesn't have to be hyper-sexual to register others around him and consider their fitness as potential partners, even if the process is mostly subconscious. Even if, in L's case, a follow-through is rare; he is a bleak realist, regarding his own fitness, and aware that most do not consider him a sexual being. Both of his partners had many points on him in terms of physical attractiveness; both were also somewhat extenuating circumstances, considering one was a supercomputer in optimized human form and the other was an obsessed idol-worshiper pushed to a breaking point.
"I navigate very little without care," he says pointedly. "Casual relationships aren't of much interest to me, which is why I prefer to devote my energy to my Bonds. As I mentioned before, it's not uncommon for people in Bonds to engage each other in other ways, including physically, but it's by no means a requirement or even an expectation."
Vague; perhaps to be expected. L's relationship with Myr is complicated and requires thought and aching effort. L brings many uninvited companions to their shared bed: melancholy, guilt, the crushing sense of being broken or unfinished, inadequate, not good enough. He feels that he is likely an object of pity, on a good day, rather than one of desire, and that Myr has seen him at his most vulnerable and compromised can't exactly help matters.
Like after Mello.
Though he's successfully etherized himself to the last time he slept with someone, to an extent, he can't quite keep a dark, cold shudder from snaking along the chain binding them in the form of the Bond. Light can't not notice it, and it requires some kind of explanation. Rather than insult Light by forcing him to ask, L speaks.
"I haven't been with anyone that way since last winter. As such experiences go, it was cumulatively a negative one, and other priorities have diverted my thoughts from acquiring more experiences, since."
A relatively sterile explanation, all things considered. Myr gets to see L vulnerable and compromised; Light is unlikely to be afforded the privilege, Bond notwithstanding.