Tweak

InsaneJournal

Tweak says, "It’s him! Our teen stalker!"

Username: 
Password:    
Remember Me
  • Create Account
  • IJ Login
  • OpenID Login
Search by : 
  • View
    • Create Account
    • IJ Login
    • OpenID Login
  • Journal
    • Post
    • Edit Entries
    • Customize Journal
    • Comment Settings
    • Recent Comments
    • Manage Tags
  • Account
    • Manage Account
    • Viewing Options
    • Manage Profile
    • Manage Notifications
    • Manage Pictures
    • Manage Schools
    • Account Status
  • Friends
    • Edit Friends
    • Edit Custom Groups
    • Friends Filter
    • Nudge Friends
    • Invite
    • Create RSS Feed
  • Asylums
    • Post
    • Asylum Invitations
    • Manage Asylums
    • Create Asylum
  • Site
    • Support
    • Upgrade Account
    • FAQs
    • Search By Location
    • Search By Interest
    • Search Randomly

inmyownworld ([info]inmyownworld) wrote in [info]vas_captio_rpg,
@ 2009-05-14 16:23:00

Previous Entry  Add to memories!  Tell a Friend!  Next Entry
Current music:Ben Folds- "The Luckiest"
Entry tags:!complete, day 07, l lawliet, laura moon, location: pharmacy/liquor store

And In a White Sea of Eyes, I See One Pair That I Recognize And I Know...
Who: L Lawliet and Laura Moon
What: Snowed in equals things happen.
Where: The snowbound drug store.
When: Day 7, morning
Rating/Warnings: R for sexuality, necrophilic overtones Full-blown necrophilia. Batten down the hatches if you're squeamish.
Status: Complete



Things were different that morning. L woke stiffly on the makeshift bed in the corner, cobbled together with various things he had found in the thrift shop. He still used Laura's cardigan to rest his head on; though he had tried to give it back to her, she always insisted that he use it that way.

Stretching, he shuffled towards the door, pushing it open... except that it wouldn't budge. Puzzled, he rammed his shoulder against it, wondering if it was jammed... but to no avail. Had Bob or Light locked him in? Just then, he noticed that the darkness he'd presumed came with early morning was actually due to heavily packed snow piled up around the windows.


(Post a new comment)


[info]spitandviolets
2009-05-14 09:18 pm UTC (link)
Stretched out inside of her glass and plastic coffin, Laura sensed that he was waking before his eyes even opened. The blood in his veins began to run faster, and she heard the faint sound of his breathing increasing. Her eyes were already open, and she had been reading her journal. It seemed that there was disharmony in the mix. Shaking her head, she snapped it shut and began pressing hard against the glass. It cracked slightly; there was one thing that she had learned from sleeping inside of a beer cooler, and it was that they didn't like to open from the inside. After a few moments, the door swung open. She really would have to find something somewhere that would make it open from the inside.

"Good morning," she said, looking at L as he studied the door and the windows. "You slept for a long time, and hard. I think it's from all of the running that we did last night, don't you? You haven't discovered anything that hurts, have you?"

Leaning against the wall beside the door, she gave the door a push and sighed, shaking her head. "We're snowed in. It was a long and silent night, and it looks like it's still going. I have no idea how high the drift goes, but it's at least over the windows here. Might be a few days before we can leave." She paused, chuckling softly. "Good for me, bad for you."

Making her way towards the back of the store, she slipped behind the counter. It had been the best place that she could think of to start up a fire, and it seemed that she'd already got it running once this morning. She added a few more sticks to the pile, wood that she'd been collecting, and the fire began to grow. She sat there with the light dancing over her skin, dark eyes watching his every move. "Are you cold?"

(Reply to this) (Thread)


[info]inmyownworld
2009-05-14 10:10 pm UTC (link)
L's first awareness of Laura waking was of hearing the slight sound of glass cracking. Stiffening, he turned toward her in time to see her emerge from her makeshift coffin. He made a mental note to help Laura find a way to exit her beer cooler without damaging it, and soon.

"We did do a lot of running..." L recalled, remembering how, in actuality, it had been mostly Laura. There had been a point where the bruises on his chest had made it too painful to breathe, and that coupled with his general out-of-shape-ness had caused him to falter. Laura had carried him, obliterating all of his fantasies of being the one to rescue her and being, himself, rescued instead. "Good morning... nothing hurts except my bruises, and I think that those are healing all right." L knew that Laura would likely be angry at him for keeping them a secret, but once she knew about them, maybe she'd better be able to understand his dire reaction with the firecracker. Hurting L, as a general rule, was dangerous. It triggered a part of him that was less rational.

"It's either good or bad for both of us," L decided, in his typical matter-of-fact monotone. "The only thing I can really think of that would work against me is my need for food, and I won't starve in only a few days." though L hated to be without things to gnaw on, it wouldn't be the first time that a situation had required endurance rather than a reliance on luxury.

He started to nod when Laura asked if he was cold, watching as she began to start a fire behind the counter. It made sense... fire to chase away cold... as it crackled to life, he found himself being warmed by its cheery glow. He slipped to the floor, feeling relaxed and drowsy... before his eyes snapped open in a panic. Coughing, he gestured frantically to Laura, before managing to choke, "Ventilation... I can't..." It was quite possible that Laura, not needing to breathe, had overlooked L's need to. While the fire hadn't quite sucked all the oxygen away, it would only be a matter of time.

(Reply to this) (Parent) (Thread)


[info]spitandviolets
2009-05-14 10:34 pm UTC (link)
"Oh gods!" she exclaimed, moving quickly to action. Getting up, she grabbed the denim jacket that she had found off of her own back and tossed it onto the fire. She began stomping and, within a few moments, the fire was out. Her jacket, however, had suffered major damage; it was, in fact, barely a jacket at all after that. It was little more than a charred mass.

The light that remained in the shop highlighted how cold it was outside. It was dim and frigid, and it made long shadows. Laura could see as plain as day, but L, she knew, would have trouble in the dark. Fortunately, they had been living there for quite a goodly chunk of time. She assume that, at this point, he knew where most everything in the shop was. She was glad for that; had they ended up someplace unexpected in their haste, it could have been messy.

"I'm sorry," she began after a long and awkward silence. That was all that she could say. Her voice was caught somewhere back in her throat. "I wasn't thinking. I forgot that our windows aren't open and that, well, you breathe." Hanging her head, she wrung her hands nervously. Then, she looked up at him, an undead and mischievous twinkle in her dark eyes. "We should be thankful for small favors, though, shouldn't we? The windows aren't open; at least the cold and the snow aren't getting in that way. You might freeze, but it won't be from that."

Seating herself once more, she looked over at him. Her eyes studied his outfit. "You're not dressed warmly enough. I should have thought about it more when it started snowing. I don't know what I'm going to do, though. I was counting on the fire. Do we have any blankets?" She looked over towards the makeshift bed. There was an old and tired blanket there, and it would do. "How on earth are we going to keep you warm?"

(Reply to this) (Parent) (Thread)


[info]inmyownworld
2009-05-14 11:18 pm UTC (link)
L watched, relieved, as Laura smothered the fire, taking slow, shallow breaths. Thank goodness that had been noticed in time. Otherwise, he might have simply fallen asleep and never woken up, and somehow he knew that while he wouldn't be around to care if that happened, Laura would be devastated. "It's OK," he said briskly, with a shrug of his shoulder. "There is no harm done... you were trying to help. And, yes, I do breathe. Maybe it would be better if..." he cut off that thought before it emerged completely. Even if he was dead like Laura, the forces that restored her to a state of animation would not apply to him. He would be dead in the conventional carrion sense, so it was best to remain alive, even if he had to deal with inconveniences like breathing.

"I might freeze?" L asked doubtfully, clearly puzzled. He had an idea of what she was hinting at, but he was too shy and too uncertain of his own appeal to assume that Laura was referring to the coolness of her own skin chilling him. "I suppose it's possible," he said after a moment, not wanting to infer too much. Though... chances were that being near her body would be better than near nothing at all. Under a blanket, it was quite possible that her body would conduct heat and therefore keep him warm.

"If you don't mind very much..." L said, awkwardly, following Laura's glance and returning to the bed, "would you mind very much staying under the blanket with me? Something like this happened to me yesterday... and I think that I only survived because there was someone with me. We kept each other warm... and even though we were both alive... maybe we could try?" he was already starting to shiver with the absence of the fire. He hung his head slightly, wishing that he didn't feel so fragile in Laura's presence. She could withstand the elements, maintain a cool detachment, and kill cougars, whereas he succumbed to soup cans, was the occasional victim of his own unstable mind, and was somewhat frailer than the average young adult male.

(Reply to this) (Parent) (Thread)


[info]spitandviolets
2009-05-14 11:57 pm UTC (link)
In truth, she had not even been thinking about the idea of putting her body to his. If she had thought about it, she would think, mainly, that it wouldn't work. Laura was, at this point, naturally icy. That was just the way that things worked. She had never tried warming anybody with her body because there weren't many people who were willing to touch her at all. It was dry, not humid, so she wasn't clammy today, but there was something incredibly awkward feeling about her flesh. Humans, instinctively, she supposed, liked to stay away from things that were dead. As far as Laura was concerned, this was a wise decision.

"You might freeze. I anticipate the temperature in here only getting colder. Then again, the snow drifts might only do the opposite. For all I know, the windows and doors being blocked might make things warmer. If we're lucky, it will protect you from the wind. Do you know much about the science of such things?"

She wasn't looking at him when he asked, but if she had he would have seen her eyes visibly and noticeably widen. Her mouth opened for a moment and then closed. Had he really just asked what she thought he had asked? Yes, he had, she thought, but it was nothing particularly interesting. He was scientific, logical. Surely having her under the blankets was an objective means to getting warmer. Maybe he knew something about dead flesh that she did not. In fact, when she thought about it, it made a lot of sense. Her body no longer had blood, but she did have some fat left. That made a lot of sense.

Noticing his shiver, something inside of her began to hurt, and she knew that she would give in to any request that he made. Had he asked her to open up her ribcage so that she could crawl inside, she would have done so. Fortunately, this was far easier than that.

"Yes," she answered, standing up. She tugged him to his feet and dragged him along back to bed. Once they were there, she tugged off the long sleeved, deep burgundy top that she had on. It wasn't very warm; she had taken something that had been light so that real people could have the actual clothing. Reaching out, Laura wrapped her shirt around his body, trying to add more fabric to warm him. She was standing in front of him in her bra and a pair of jeans. The lighting was dim, allowing Laura to pass for human, yet she chose to take a step towards him. When she closed the distance, her myriad scars came into view. There was the long, V-shaped scar from collarbone to sternum. Her torso was riddled with long scars, wounds that had been stitched up before her burial; some of them still had the string visible. She could not look into his face. This was not her body, this was her corpse, and she was ashamed for someone to see it.

Motioning to the bed, she kept her eyes on it. "After you," she said, "how do you want us to do this? Should I be in front or in back of you?"

(Reply to this) (Parent) (Thread)


[info]inmyownworld
2009-05-15 10:16 am UTC (link)
Though humans normally tended to stay away from dead things, the fact was that, while L had not spent much time around the dead, he had, likewise, not spent much time around the living. In his eyes, all was equal in life and death so long as the subject in question could carry out an interesting conversation. A "dead" person who could speak and reason was just as much alive to him as a "living" person in a permanently comatose state was dead. Of course... the second circumstance was slightly grey, since L himself had been subject to a similar predicament and certainly appreciated not being allowed to die. At that point, he had been too young... he had not become himself yet. If souls existed, his had manifested after he woke up and became L.

"Snow actually acts as an insulator," L said, glad that he could contribute where this was concerned. "It's better this way, for me, at least... especially this tightly packed. Even though we're trapped here, things will be warmer with the snow piled around us than without." Characteristically, L actually knew much about the science of lots of things.

Though L didn't notice Laura's eyes widen, he did notice a pause, a silence that was different from most silences. Most silences were lulls, points at which no one could think to say anything or the speakers were weary. This one was full of questions, which, in turn, raised a multitude of them in L's own mind. Of course, they increased exponentially when Laura proceeded to remove her deep, reddish-brown (for all his genius, L tended to be imprecise with exact names of colors) top and wrap it around him, leaving everything above her jeans mostly bare. He had seen scarcely clad women before, and even naked women, but never, once, had a woman removed items of clothing specifically for him. His thumb flew to his mouth, where it was gnawed fretfully for a moment as he reasoned through the situation. Laura did not appear uncomfortable... this seemed to be of her own will... he certainly didn't oppose being able to see a few of the feminine curves that both fascinated and frightened him... the scars, initially, chilled him in a gripping, jittery way, but combined with his inexperience where women were concerned... the effect was one of interest. He found himself wondering what the texture of those scars might be under exploring fingers. Perhaps rough, in contrast to the softness of Laura's body, or maybe...?

He quickly got under the covers, hoping to hide his blush before Laura commented on it. "Oh, it... doesn't really matter to me... could you be in front?" Old habits died hard. L was still nervous about being seen by women he admired.

(Reply to this) (Parent) (Thread)


[info]spitandviolets
2009-05-15 02:42 pm UTC (link)
When his eyes hit her, she felt awkward somehow. It was almost a gagging feeling. After a moment's deliberation, she realized that she did not want his eyes on her. She liked the idea of him looking at her figure, but she did not like the idea of his eyes having to witness her scars. Her body was grizzly. There were parts of her skin that were discolored from where she'd had massive internal bleeding; no mortician in the world could make those go away. The scars stood out in relief, accented by the thick string that held her closed. In life she'd had a dislike of being naked because she was curvy; now, she detested the map that her flesh had become. It was an atlas of all her sins.

"That's good, that it's an insulator. I won't have to keep such a close eye on you. Also, I think that me being in the front is a good idea. I'll be able to make sure that you are still breathing a lot easier. I do not want to find that you have frozen while I'm not paying attention."

Watching him getting under the covers, she felt her mind swirling somewhere. Memories came crashing down upon her. For a moment, L reminded her of Shadow, and this was the first night that they were in their apartment together. They weren't married yet, but he would propose to her in two months' time. His back was to her, and she had come out of the bathroom in a black, satin nightie. "Wow," he'd said, "If I get to see that every night, I'm staying forever." "You'd better stay forever," she'd replied, and she'd curled into him.

She jerked back to the present, and she was standing over L, staring awkwardly. "Sorry," she mumbled. Stepping over him, she stretched and laid down, shifting minimally under the blanket. She didn't need it, so she made sure that he was completely covered. Shifting backwards, Laura became more of a puzzle piece than a person. She moved until her shoulders hit his chest, and the rest of her began to fall into place. She shifted and arched into the curve of his body. It was at that moment that Laura, finally and for the first time, realized that L was taller than she was. She chuckled darkly to herself at the thought. Here she was, the small and strong one, and she was taking care of a big brute. Oh, how Laura loved her big dogs. Still getting settled, she wriggled until her backside pressed into the curve of his hips. Her knees bent, heels hitting him somewhere in the shin. Finally still, she was completely molded to the shape of his body.

Laura's body was chilly to the touch. Fortunately, the temperature had been low so she was by no means clammy. The silver staples in her shoulder glittered in the dim light. The parts of their flesh that touched almost drove her mad despite the fact that it was just the back of his knuckles against her arm; they made her head spin. It was wonderfully sensual in a way, feeling his heat. It was something that she craved, the only sensation that her dead nerves could register. It made the emptiness go away. What she hoped, though, was that she wasn't stealing his heat. If it was the case, she would be moving herself at once.

"Are you okay?" she asked, her back to him. Her hair still smelled faintly of cloves, and it was somewhat clean smelling. Laura had managed, the other day before the meeting, to get herself washed while L was at the thrift shop. Her eyes stared straight ahead into the darkness. "Do you need me to move at all? Let me know what I can do to make you comfortable."

(Reply to this) (Parent) (Thread)


[info]inmyownworld
2009-05-15 05:25 pm UTC (link)
L, unaware of Laura's wishes, did not look away from the canvas of her flesh. There was something honest, about such a body, with wounds so plainly displayed that their complexity had a quantity. L far preferred damage on the surface, that he could see and evaluate, to the no man's land of the human heart. Scars and suffering in that arena left him breathless and cold if he tried to hard to probe the extent of such uniquely human pain.

He glanced up at Laura, curled into himself like usual, unaware of how clearly such posture broadcasted the emotional abuse he himself had weathered. It did, however, create a very receptive shape for spooning, and Laura fit into the concave curve of his body nicely. He was bony, but indeed tall, and it was logical that he should be in back... but he started violently when Laura pressed her backside into his hips. Not because he was upset or frightened, but because it had felt good. Unbelievably so, actually, and he found himself wanting more of that kind of contact.

His body seemed to have come to that conclusion before his mind, however. Recalling Light's similar reaction to being under a blanket in the cold, L cringed, suddenly having a new appreciation and respect for Light Yagami. Laura certainly wasn't stealing his heat; on the contrary, she was adding to it by making him fairly glow with embarrassment. It was ridiculous. He was L. The great detective, who beat computers at chess and was known for his logic and his inhuman set of morals that got the job done. He was not an animal, and didn't think that he, of all people, should be subjected to these base urges.

He suddenly wanted to feel his skin against Laura's, aware that it might have a cooling effect on a sensation that could only be described as feverish. So complete was his humiliation that it was actually overheating him. And then, in her soft voice, she asked him if he needed her to move at all. Something about that suggestion... it took his mind back to the way she had pressed herself against his hips, and the result was that he had to either push her away or draw her closer to retain his own sanity. He fought with himself for a moment, trying to decide which would be better... especially since Laura could probably feel a certain problem against her thigh.

He wished that he wasn't so retarded when it came to this sort of situation. "S-sorry..." he stammered quietly. "I've never..."

(Reply to this) (Parent) (Thread)


[info]spitandviolets
2009-05-15 09:04 pm UTC (link)
For a few moments, completely still and seeming more dead than ever, Laura laid there. She did not breath, she did not twitch, she did not blink. Her ears were doing all of the work, as were her superhuman senses. She heard his heart beating inside of his chest. As she was still and close to him, she felt the blood pumping through his veins. It was regular, and it was, somehow, comforting. She forced a sigh from herself. After a moment, though, she noticed a subtle change in his pulse; it was getting faster, harder. What was going on?

That was when she noticed it.

Eyes widening, she swallowed hard, and her jaw dropped open. What could she say? What could she do? Her mind was moving at the speed of light. Thoughts raced, and emotions long dead flared. This was certainly unexpected.

"No, don't be sorry," she murmured. Inadvertently, her body shifted against him, and she sought to make herself fit better, as if that would somehow solve the problem. "It...it just happens. It's something that just happens. It's an involuntary reflex at times. That's all. I don't blame you for it."

Laura fell silent for a moment. She simply laid there, trying not to move, but such a realization always made one's body twitch slightly. She found her mind traveling to awkward places, especially where she was actually thinking that she was surprised to feel anything. Part of her had wondered if they had castrated him to make him work harder, or if he was completely incapable of feeling desire. Then her mind moved to that dark and secret place, the place that had gotten her killed. She was, in some sick sense, pleased, and in that moment she felt evil. She felt sinful. No, she felt guilty. At the same time, she felt powerful. That strange sense of womanly power and passion welled up inside of her. She was tempted to turn around, to push herself against him, to steal his warmth, to make him feel even more uncomfortable.

She blurted out before she could even stop herself. "But I'm dead," she said softly, her voice barely higher than a whisper. Apparently her bedroom voice and bedroom eyes had not been stolen by death. She shook her head, bowing it slightly. "I'm hideously deformed. My body is covered in scars. And, to top it all off, I'm just as curvy as I was in life. I've never been very attractive. I mean, you've known such wonderful women. I'm downright boring, and I'm not even a woman anymore. How can you think such things about me? How am I, in any way, a turn on?" If it was at all possible, Laura was flushed. Still, she felt his knuckles against her arm. A shudder ran down her body, back arching some. Whenever she noticed him touching her, it shook the foundation of her universe so powerful was the power of human warmth.

(Reply to this) (Parent) (Thread)


[info]inmyownworld
2009-05-15 09:44 pm UTC (link)
L couldn't believe that he'd had the audacity to make fun of Light at any point, when being in this type of situation was so uniquely hellish. Even though Laura was trying to reassure him, tell him that it wasn't his fault and that she wasn't upset, it was the most awkward thing that had ever happened to L. He reached between his legs, in an effort to persuade his "problem" to please, please go away, but if possible, the added stimulation only made it worse.

L's mind was also traveling to awkward places. He didn't know whether to feel better, that Laura had told him it was all right, or to feel dirty and ashamed. Of course, he had been "cured"of desire to make him work harder, but by no means had the effects been permanent. When he stopped taking the pills, such feelings returned.

"I'm s-s-sorry... I know that you're dead, but... you're wrong, you're actually very attractive... not 'hideously deformed', and your curves are... nice..." he stammered, trying not to overstep his bounds. "I don't know why you say such things, when... obviously, I find you fascinating, and... enjoy your company, and... admire you."

(Reply to this) (Parent) (Thread)


[info]spitandviolets
2009-05-15 10:03 pm UTC (link)
When he reached down to adjust his positioning, Laura gasped faintly. His hand brushed her skin, which she assumed to be frigid, more towards her waist. In truth, Laura was not all that chilly. She was actually room temperature, maybe a little warmer due to the fact that she was under the blanket.

Something seemed to lift off of her chest when she heard him speak. She had spent so long feeling bad about herself that she had forgotten how it felt to be wanted, to be found attractive. It was wonderful, and it was almost as warm as his skin.

She rolled over to face him. Looking up and into his eyes, she smiled the most genuine smile that she could muster. Her hands, still cold, slid up and were gently placed upon either cheek. She leaned in, pressing her front closer to him this time. Her hips didn't fit quite as well into his at this point as they had when her back was to him. Her chest, only covered by the thin, black material of her bra, pressed into his chest, and she shifted her legs ever so slightly, wedging her knee between his.

"Shut your mouth," Laura murmured, her eyes half lidded. Her fingertips gently stroked his cheek, and she bit her lower lip faintly. She consciously decided in that place between his breaths what she was going to do. Her eyes closed, and she crossed the gap between them. Cold and dry, yet smooth at the same time, her lips pressed to his. They were parted slightly, yet she was careful not to put too much passion and aggression into it. The invitation was there for him to accept, yet she would not be offended if he did not wish to accept it. Her mouth tasted of toothpaste, for she was careful to make sure that she was clean, but there was also the faint taste of clove cigarettes and mothballs.

Unable to help herself, she pressed herself against him a bit tighter. A high pitched, lusty sigh escaped her into the kiss. And, afraid that she had done something wrong, she pulled away only a few inches, eyes closed, not daring to look at him.

(Reply to this) (Parent) (Thread)


[info]inmyownworld
2009-05-15 10:37 pm UTC (link)
L found himself between a rock and a hard place. The more he thought about that expression, the more ways there were to pervert it, so he tried not to delve to deeply where that was concerned. Between his own rather rigid problem and the stereotypical "rigor mortis"... but L hadn't the time to think on that. He was actually more like Laura than either of them knew yet, in that he, too, responded to being wanted. It was easy to pretend that her skin was simply cool due to the temperature outside, and it was soft and smooth under his hands with the exception of intricate landscape of scars.

Though their hips didn't fit together quite as well, that wasn't to say that L didn't want to try to make them. Though his eye contact was flickering, hesitant and weak, he was able to hold it with Laura for much longer than he usually was with anyone. Instead of feeling the urge to draw back when she placed her hands against his cheeks, he found himself frozen in time and space. Most of all, he found himself wanting this as much as Laura did. He gasped slightly as she nudged one of her knees between his, shuddering deeply as he felt their chests brush each other.

It was L's first kiss. He would remember the taste of wintergreen and something soft and dusty he couldn't name, the smooth, cool brand of physical affection that he had never experienced. It was an invitation that no one in L's place would refuse, and L was, himself, no exception. He wrapped his arms around Laura, drawing her closer, wanting her closer still, feeling her sigh against his own lips and knowing that she wanted the same. When she started to pull away, he watched for a moment, his gaze passing over her closed, slightly darkened lids, before he pulled her into another kiss.

(Reply to this) (Parent) (Thread)


[info]spitandviolets
2009-05-15 11:10 pm UTC (link)
When his arms wrapped around him and his hands touched her skin, her body melted into his. Though such passion was awkward and unfamiliar for L, it was instinctual for Laura. His actions spoke volumes, and despite the fact that he was timid and unsure, the fact that he was at least able to follow some instincts was encouraging. The heat that flowed from him to her made her feel almost alive again, and it installed in her some renewed sense of vigor.

Moving her hands from his face, she began exploring him with a sense of curiosity. What was intimacy like now? How would it feel? Would it feel at all? Her hands first moved to his own, gently guiding his fingertips over her scars. She led him over her back, tracing a few of her lesser known scars, before sliding his hands to her sides, resting them just below her bra band for a moment. Sliding down slightly, she let his hands linger at the curves on either side of her ribcage. Her hands slid to his sides, fingers gently sliding under the edge of his shirt. Her hands, cool and soft, rested flat against his skin before they slid back, resting on the small of his back, her arms wrapped around him tightly.

If Laura had known that it was L's first kiss, she would have been a bit more romantic, maybe less assertive somehow. Still, in her own defense, she did not know, and he simply seemed shy. The way his body responded to her touches, to her kiss, only made her want more. She was getting needy, lusty even. When he kissed her back, she knew that there was no going back. She had to admit to herself that she felt, and what she felt was an attraction to L that was not simply a desire to protect him; it was something deeper, perhaps more sinister in ways, and it was, at least, physical. Still, she knew it to be more.

Unable to resist, she practically clawed at him. She held onto him as if he were the only stable thing left in the universe. Her chest heaved with breathing that was more of the memory of a reaction than an actual need. Grabbing his hand, she slid it around her body and down to her rear, placing it firmly upon the jean covered swell of her butt. One of her hands traveled back to his cheek, stroking gently. Pulling away from the kiss, she gasped, smiling that hopeless smile of hers. Her eyes half opened, and she glanced at him.

"Wow."

(Reply to this) (Parent) (Thread)


[info]inmyownworld
2009-05-16 12:00 am UTC (link)
Fortunately, L's instincts combined with Laura's expertise were more than enough to propel things forward. With anyone else, he might have been afraid to continue, or requested that things go more slowly, but there was something safe about Laura. With her, he felt not only accepted, but free of judgment and derision. He was unconditionally embraced, regardless of his thoughts and actions, because...

His thoughts sounded like the classic necrophiliac's profile.

It wasn't like that, he thought firmly, chasing that notion out of his head. Laura walked and spoke and cared, about him at least, and that was what mattered. She was more alive than so many humans... what was wrong, exactly, with being attracted to her and holding her and kissing her like this? As long as she held him back, L reasoned, then it was no different from a union between two living partners.

And she was holding him back... he could feel her cool hands raising the hairs on his scalp all the way from their place on the small of his back. If Laura was needy, then he was needier still, because he had a living body that had gone years without this kind of attention and contact. Part of L still refused to believe that it was happening, that his speculations and fantasies were actually taking place. Even if they were sinister from Laura's perspective, he could see nothing but incredible kindness in her actions. Instead of rejecting him, she had offered an invitation of her own, and now they were creating a secret together.

His hand slipped below the waistband of her jeans, feeling the soft, smooth skin, wanting to both touch and see more. It was somewhat overwhelming, the act of foreplay, but in a gentle, persistent, and pleasurable way.

He nodded, wide-eyed, in response to Laura's "wow."

"I... really liked that..." he breathed, his own chest heaving to match Laura's (though he had to admit that it didn't quite have the same erotic effect hers managed).

(Reply to this) (Parent) (Thread)


[info]spitandviolets
2009-05-16 12:41 am UTC (link)
It was probably for the best that L hadn't mentioned the word necrophiliac out loud. It wasn't a very pretty word, and she knew how living people felt about people who did that sort of thing. Still, she probably wouldn't have stopped him if he had mentioned that word. As long as he seemed to want her, she didn't care what he was.

Part of her, at first, felt incredibly guilty. She was, after all, technically still married. Then, ironically, wedding vows filtered through her mind: 'til death do us part. Well, death had happened, both for herself and for Shadow. She supposed that was a contract that was now, pretty much officially, null and void. Besides, the last time she had seen Shadow, he had wanted absolutely nothing to do with her. He had barely been able to look at her sideways, let alone straight on. This was not cheating; this was moving on. And all that she knew was that she felt very, very strongly about L.

With a fluid shift of her weight, Laura shifted L onto his back and herself onto his lap. She looked down at him, perched atop him like some kind of feral cat. Her long, dark, chestnut colored hair hung around her shoulders, framing her pale face. In the dim lighting of the snowstorm, she was almost luminescent. Surprisingly, Laura weighed much, much less than a typical girl of her height and body build. Apparently blood and other things weighed an awful lot. She was glad, for the first time, that she weighed nearly half of what she should; he looked so thin and delicate beneath her. Part of her wondered if she should start worrying about her weight again.

At present, his hand was trapped down the back of her jeans. She leaned forward slightly, pressing her rear end into his grip a little bit. Her eyes sparkled with mischief. Still, she didn't have the heart to take any of his clothes off. The point of all of that was to make him warm, not to get him naked. She didn't want him to catch a chill.

"I really liked that, too," she said, her voice still soft. For someone who was so monotone, she had a wonderfully sensual purr when she was whispering sweet nothings. Sliding a hand down to grab the one that was not in her pants, she placed his fingers on the dull, metal tab at the top of the zipper. Leaning down, she pressed her lips against his earlobe. "What are you thinking?" she whispered. Her teeth lightly grazed the lobe, and she breathed out softly. Her hand slipped to his waist, fingertips sliding just under the band of his jeans, feathery touches stroking across his skin.

(Reply to this) (Parent) (Thread)


[info]inmyownworld
2009-05-16 01:17 am UTC (link)
Even later, in his private journal, L would avoid mentioning that word. He knew that, of all sexual deviants, necrophiliacs were perhaps the most timid and innocuous, harmless, nervous creatures who could not find affection among the living.

L shook himself. He was not a sexual deviant. He was a virgin, how could he be?

The new position came with a new perspective; on his back, L had a clear view of Laura's face and body, at an admirer's angle. He could feel her weight against his lap and it was the type of friction he craved. He was beginning to realize these things, as new synapses fired and new connections and associations were made at frantic speeds within his busy- but entirely focused- head.

He squeezed in response when he felt her press herself into his hand, appreciative of the gesture despite his trepidation into this whole, unfamiliar arena. His heart was pounding in his chest, his limbs felt invigorated due to the increased bloodflow, and other, newer sensations were occurring in other extremities.

L found it immensely encouraging that Laura had liked it, as well... that she had derived pleasure from the encounter, as he had... that she was still watching him with desire in her dark eyes. Feeling the zipper between his fingertips like a cool metal key, he closed his eyes as Laura asked him what was on his mind. "Everything and nothing," he decided, after giving it some thought. His back arched slightly as she ran her own fingers under his waistband, his spine feeling like living liquid under the teasing caress.

(Reply to this) (Parent) (Thread)


[info]spitandviolets
2009-05-16 01:42 am UTC (link)
"How is that fair?" she chided him, head canting to the side as she looked down at him. A dark chuckle escaped her throat. "That's so very, very vague. Why can't you tell me what you're thinking? Don't I get to know? I always tell you whatever is on my mind." Her hands slid along his sides as she leaned down, laying atop him, hoping that he was still getting warmer, or at least staying at the same degree of warmth. Under her touch, it didn't seem that he was getting much colder.

His fingers on her zipper were absolutely brutal. It was almost painful to know that his touch was so close, yet he was doing nothing. Did he know what delicious agony he was causing her? She guessed not, but she hoped that he could learn. She, herself, was in the process of learning. Her body responded differently now, far differently than it had when she was alive. Things felt different; mainly, Laura was glad that she could feel. But what she could feel was more intense than it ever had been. The longing was deeper than ever. The burning sensation in the pit of her stomach was stronger than she'd ever experienced. The feel of his skin against her skin was almost searingly hot. It was definitely a fascinating way to experience desire.

Hands sliding to his hair, she massaged his scalp gently. She stroked her fingers through the dark mop, caressing his forehead. Resting her head on his shoulder, Laura nodded. "You know what I'm thinking?" she asked, hoping that he was somewhat curious. Without waiting for a response, she decided to go on. "When I used to get feeling lusty, back when I knew Shadow and before, things happened way faster than they are right now. In another world, a world that feels like it was a thousand years ago, I would be in the back seat of some guy's van, or in the catwalk over the auditorium, and we'd already be done by now. This is so completely different than anything I've ever done before. I'm not sure what to do...and that gives me an odd feeling that I can't quite name. Silly of me, isn't it?"

(Reply to this) (Parent) (Thread)


[info]inmyownworld
2009-05-16 02:02 am UTC (link)
L swallowed, averting his eyes shyly. Of course, a main reason he felt like he couldn't elaborate further on his present thoughts was the fact that they were becoming far less innocent. "You always do tell me whatever is on your mind..." he agreed, his voice overly soft due to the effort he was pouring into controlling it. "OK... I'll say more... you are on my mind, Laura Moon... will that suffice?"

There was nothing ravenous about L's particular kind of affection. He was a lover the same way he was a human being; just as he handled objects with supreme delicacy which suggested that he was afraid to disturb even the slightest microbe and leave a trace of his presence, he handled intimacy like it was something he could destroy at any moment. Laura's zipper had been given to him, but he wasn't sure that he quite trusted himself to undo it. It didn't take him long to realize that he was capable and willing, and he kissed Laura as he carefully unzipped her jeans and undid the button holding them closed at her small waist.

Strangely, the most exhilarating thing yet for L to hear from Laura was the fact that something was going to be new for her. Just knowing this made him slightly more confident, certainly more open to the idea of opening himself to Laura. "It's... very different from anything I've done before, as well..." L agreed, closing his eyes, relishing the feel of Laura's cool fingertips against his scalp. "Sometimes, faster isn't better... isn't it like eating all your vegetables, and then getting dessert...?"

(Reply to this) (Parent) (Thread)


[info]spitandviolets
2009-05-16 02:26 am UTC (link)
"Hm, my full name. I'm not sure if I should be worried about that, Ryuzaki. My mother always called me Laura Moon when I was in trouble with her after I was married. Am I in trouble?" Winking at him, she chuckled softly. Oh how she wished those thoughts, as devilish as they might have been, would find form. She wanted to know what was on his mind, what sort of thing he thought about when it came to being with someone in such a way. She, selfishly, wanted to know what he was thinking about her. "It will have to suffice if it is the truth and if it is all that you will give me. It's just as well; it gives my mind room to wander and lets me think about all of the deliciously wicked things that you might be pondering. I know the capacity of your mind for great thoughts, so I cannot help but wonder what insignificant part of your intellect I get to live in. It's interesting to me that I'm being thought about, considered, if you will."

There was not a single time in her life that, in bedroom affairs, Laura could say that she was treated delicately. The thought of that actually scared her. When she had messed around with whomever she pleased, the pace had never really been all that delicate; it had, in fact, gotten downright rough at most times. She did not, therefore, even have any words when it came to Shadow and her in the bedroom. The neighbors in the apartments adjacent to them on all five sides had complained numerous times, but they had just laughed and ignored them. Once, when they were spending the weekend at her mother's house, the woman had complained that they sounded like cats in heat; Laura's sister was convinced that Shadow was beating on her and had almost called the police. To be treated like something that could break now that she was more durable than ever was wonderfully ironic to her, and she could not help but see the dark humor in it.

Additionally, she could not help but see how different L was. She supposed that was why she liked him. In life, she had never had any different. For her, he was exotic; he was interesting and fascinating because he was different, and she was hopelessly attracted to him. She had never known a man who was delicate, thoughtful, intelligent, and frail. She had never known a man who needed protecting, and she liked to be able to offer that to him. She liked being the one that looked after him, and she liked teaching him things.

Despite the fact that she relished the opportunity to experience all of the wonderful and new sensations that came with making out with L, she still found it very difficult to handle. She was a very passionate, intense, and physical woman. When he finally slid the zipper down, she almost cried out from relief. She could almost hear the zipper going down tooth by tooth. It was the longest unzipping of her existence, yet it was exquisite. The fact that he undid the button after unzipping her pants also struck her. Usually that went first, and the lack of regularity in the pattern heightened her senses.

Sliding off of him, she made sure that he was tucked beneath the blanket. Standing up, she gazed down at him like some sort of great predator. The corners of her lips twisted upwards. Sliding her hands through her hair, shaking it out, Laura nodded. "Mm. I agree that faster isn't necessarily better. But I've always been an impatient girl. Still, I have all the time in the world, now, so I can wait. If you so desire to torture me..."

(Reply to this) (Parent)


[info]spitandviolets
2009-05-16 02:27 am UTC (link)
Her voice trailed off. Hips swaying, she locked eyes at him. Her hands slid down her body, one caressing along her neck and her collar bone. Hands slowly stroking over her breasts, she let her palms trail down her sides until they reached the waist of her pants. She shifted so that she was in profile to him, bending forward slightly, and she slid the jeans painfully slowly down and off, making sure to take extra time. Kicking them to the side, she stood before him in only her lingerie, which was black and lacy and hid just enough to keep him wondering what it would look like on the floor.

Satisfied with her undressing, Laura slid back under the blanket with him. She wrapped her body around his as she took her place on his lap once more. Biting into her lower lip, she twined her fingers with his, lightly holding down his hands. It would be easy for him to move them if he so desired. "I suppose that I can go along with that game." She nibbled his earlobe gently before placing a delicate kiss on his temple.

(Reply to this) (Parent) (Thread)


[info]inmyownworld
2009-05-16 02:58 am UTC (link)
"You're not in trouble... but 'Ryuzaki' is not my name, so... please call me 'L'," L said, still running his hands softly over Laura's form as if unable to believe that she was giving him the opportunity to do so. It would be infinitely better for him once Laura started using the name that meant prestige, power, and competence... not a shabby stand-in for a boy who wasn't real. As for what L thought about the situation... his mind was surprisingly nudging him aside, setting locks and traps to keep him from thinking too deeply about the whole affair. Ever since he was a child, his brain had been a scary place, where things fell into place and where intelligence blazed brightly, but it was so easy to get lost, hurt, or burned in such a mind. He had been told that he would grow into it, that he would someday fit his genius, but his mind had grown with him, always staying in control, helping him reason but not allowing him to destroy himself, existentially or otherwise. "What on earth makes you think that you're not worthy of my thought?"

L was different; he was a young soul in a body already hunched from the weight of the world resting on his bony shoulders. His face was youthful, but his eyes (if one managed to look directly into them) were wayward, wild, and haunted with humanity's greatest triumphs and shames. He loved secrets, he kept secrets, he was a secret. But secrets were protected, and safe, and shared with no one, or else they ceased to be secrets.

L didn't want to be a secret, from Laura. He wanted, above all, to be a truth, something that they both valued so highly, and he wanted Laura to, in turn, be a truth for him. Because, like Laura had never known a fragile man who needed protecting, L had never known a strong woman who was safe from being lost or broken.

At first, L wasn't sure if he was supposed to watch Laura's strip tease or avert his eyes respectfully. After a moment, though, all such speculation fled his mind; it didn't seem possible not to watch. He was male, and even though Laura seemed to condemn her curves on a regular basis, he rather liked them and the effect that the lingerie had on them. Laura was beautiful, he decided, and he tried to let her know with his dark eyes that he thought so. His expression of admiration was difficult for anyone to mistake. "No... the last thing I desire is to torture you... but this is not a game, Laura... at least, I hope you do not see it that way, because I cannot. This is the best thing that has happened to me since arriving here. No... in years... perhaps since I woke up from my long sleep."he squeezed her hands with his own, his long, thin fingers meshing pleasantly with Laura's.

(Reply to this) (Parent) (Thread)


[info]spitandviolets
2009-05-17 02:03 pm UTC (link)
"Of course it's a game, L," she murmured, sinking down to him, pressing close to him, her hands wrapping into his, fingers squeezing tenderly. She leaned in, kissing him softly, her lips just barely brushing against his own. "But it's not a bad game, it's a good one. Romance, passion, love, desire: they're the most important and pleasing games that human beings can play. It's like chess, in a way, because you're always trying to get closer to the other person, yet people tend to put up barriers to keep people out. The point of the game is a mutual win; the point of the game is to kill the loneliness, to make life bearable, to be closer to another person than is possible with anyone else in the world. Also, such things are supposed to be fun. Sex should never be a chore, nor should love be. So torture me, if you see fit; it's part of the game, the buildup, the waiting, that makes it all worth while. Tell me that I'm in trouble, for it will only make me work harder to make you pleased with me. So please, L, don't tell me not to see it as a game. It's one of the only ones that I play well, and it's one that I want to play with you."

She shifted slightly, adjusting her hips so she could sit more comfortably in his lap. She hoped that she wasn't hurting him in any way. That was the last thing that she wanted. Taking one of his hands, she lifted it to her lips, kissing his knuckles softly. Her tongue flicked out, lightly licking the back of his hand. His skin still felt warm to her, and it was wonderful. She lifted his hand to her cheek and nuzzled it tenderly, dark eyes staring down at him.

It was foolish, but she knew that she had to answer his question concerning why she was not worthy of his thoughts. Truth was her trade, so she chose to answer honestly. In life, she'd been too familiar with lies or secrets, or omission to the point of being lies. "You've known so many interesting women in your life, L," she replied. His name still felt foreign to her tongue despite the fact that it was far easier to say. She decided that it would be her name, one that she would call him when they were together; it would help keep him mysterious in the eyes of others, shielded from them, in their own little world where nothing was wrong. "You've known that Naomi woman, Wedy, and Misa Amane. They're so vivid, and they stick out so well in your mind that even here you can remember them well enough to mention them. You tell such interesting stories about them, and they have all been incredibly important to you. They're brilliant, or, if not brilliant, intriguing and powerful, perhaps frightening. I am not worthy of your thought because I am no such thing. I do not want you to think about me, for I do not know what you would think. I do not possess their valor. I am not beautiful, nor intelligent, nor a detective, nor noteworthy. I was a travel agent, and I am dead now. One day you will wake up, and you will fulfill your promise to me: you will leave when a better woman comes along. I will no longer have a clear reason to exist, and all of this will be a dream."

(Reply to this) (Parent) (Thread)


[info]inmyownworld
2009-05-17 03:19 pm UTC (link)
L had always thought of games as contests, competitions, battles to determine the superiority of one mind over another. To hear Laura compare romance and (had she really said it?) love to chess, as a mutually fulfilling and victorious game, was just what the logically-minded detective needed to begin to wrap his mind around the concepts. He knew that, regardless of what Laura claimed about herself, there were things that she could teach him. She had known love in her life, and he was just waking up to it. "I don't want to torture you," L said earnestly. He bit his lip, averting his eyes shyly. "However... I do want to make love to you, whether we view it as a game or not. And soon." It wasn't a demand, or even a request, but a simple, modest statement of fact.

Laura was not hurting L, and if she was causing discomfort, it was the kind that was conducive to this sort of activity. He wanted to seize her hips and pull her closer against him, but was currently distracted by the motions of her tongue against his his knuckles, and then his hand against her cool, smooth cheek.

It stunned L that Laura could continue to be so hard on herself when he was clearly in the palm of her hand. "I've known interesting women... but you're interesting," he insisted. "Besides... of anyone I've known, you're the only one I've done anything approaching this with. Even though I'm intrigued, and a little frightened, it doesn't matter that you're dead. It just matters that you're Laura, and that you are serious about this, even if it is a game. Because I don't want another woman."

(Reply to this) (Parent)


[info]spitandviolets
2009-05-17 03:52 pm UTC (link)
"But you promised me, L. You promised that you'd leave the moment something better came along, and you have to tell me that you're actively looking for something better. I'm dead, and there aren't many people who know it, but I know for certain that there are some who do know it. Do you know what they'll think about you? Say about you? I do not care what happens to me, but I want you to be able to function normally. I don't want people to think ill of you. You're wonderful, and I want all of them to see that. You're too brilliant for them to cut you out. They need you. The humans here, they can't survive without you."

And neither could she. "And neither can I, but at least I can remain objective about the whole thing. Maybe I shouldn't be here, doing this, but I cannot deny how I feel. I didn't think I could feel, and I don't really know what it is that I feel. But I feel very strongly for you, and I feel very protective of you. I could settle for that, maybe, but not now. Not after you've said that I'm beautiful and that you want to make love to me."

She stared down at him, biting into her lower lip gently and nibbling on it. Her dark eyes were locked on his face. "No one ever said that to me while I was alive. No one ever said that they wanted to make love to me. I'm not even sure that I know how to make love, L. We should stop this. No, we shouldn't. I'm just saying what I think that I should be saying. I still feel like I have to pay for the mistakes that I made in life, but I don't really owe anybody anything. I'm not really married anymore, you're not really attached to anyone, and you care for me." Her brows furrowed, and she held his hands tightly. "I am serious about this. I promise you that. I'm too worried about you and about this to say that this is just a casual, easy thing."

Shaking her head, she chuckled softly. She sounded like a royal mess. She sounded human. Still, she had to recognize that she was not, in fact, human in the traditional sense. Smiling, Laura swayed atop him a little bit. She dug her knees into his hips, squeezing him slightly, and she grinned devilishly.

"Fine," she said, "you win. I'm going to admit to you that I want this. And I want you. I want to keep you, and I want to keep you safe. I'm not going to rush this. You get to pick the pace. But are you sure now is the time? I really don't want you to catch a chill."

(Reply to this) (Thread)


[info]inmyownworld
2009-05-17 06:59 pm UTC (link)
L shook his head, laughing without voice. "I don't care what people think of me. I never have. I've also never functioned normally, so this in no way hurts me." he unclasped his hands with Laura's, running them up and down her bare arms, savoring the experience of having someone he cared for so close to him. "The humans here... they'll find a use for me, even if I sleep with the dead. I have little doubt that the desperation here will cease in favor of selectiveness."

His eyes widened. She'd said the word "love" before, and it had excited him, but now she was saying that she couldn't survive without him. He supposed that hearing that from a dead woman probably merited bonus points, if it was really a game. "Maybe neither of us should be doing it... but we are, and it's not wrong," L said. "Especially now that both of us know that we can't settle. I need to feel more of you."

If L hadn't been sure before, though, he most definitely was when Laura told him that she had never "made love." The words, to L, had seemed less coarse than many usual ways of expressing sexual acts, and the way Laura responded was both lovely and tragic. He tightened his hold on her, wanting her to know that even thinking about stopping would be an affront to them both after they'd made their thoughts clear to each other.

"Now is a very good time," L said, pressing Laura's hands against the front of his jeans to demonstrate that point. "My blood is far too hot to catch a chill, I promise."

(Reply to this) (Parent) (Thread)


[info]spitandviolets
2009-05-17 07:56 pm UTC (link)
Her hands strayed away from his pants, sliding up to the hem of his shirt and over it. She slid her own shirt off of him, chuckling softly, mumbling something to the effect of "a world of good that's doing." Leaning in, she kissed his neck, gently biting at the flesh, tugging and sucking lightly. She let it go with a kissing motion. "If you're sure," she said, letting her words fade away. The rest of it didn't need to be said.

Palms caressing his chest, she let her hands move back to the hem of his shirt. She pushed the fabric up, holding her breath subconsciously as his skin came into view. She did not need to breathe, yet her lack of breath seemed distinctly marked somehow. Leaning down, Laura kissed at his belly softly, her cold lips grazing over his pale flesh. He was somewhat like a skeleton, and she was almost jealous. Almost because the poor thing looked half starved. Her tongue flicked out, tracing beside his belly button. "You're not a robot," she mumbled, hoping he would find the humor in her comment. Her hands moved quickly now, pushing his shirt up, and her tongue traced up his body behind them. She nipped his collar bone as she pushed his shirt up and off, hoping that she wasn't being too rough.

"That's more like it," she said, looking into his eyes. L did not make eye contact with her often, so she made certain that she was going to maintain that intimate line of communication with him during this ordeal. Reaching down, she took his hands and placed them on her sides. She shifted, back arching, making her rock against his lap a bit more. Her hips were pressed hard against his, wonderfully bony and fleshy at the same time. If she had more weight, she would have had to try a little bit less to get the same, teasing, intimate pressure.

"I think the first thing that you should learn in all of this is that it doesn't happen all that easily, and, as you've pointed out, it shouldn't be all that fast." She licked up the side of his neck to his ear, tugging at the lobe with her teeth very faintly. "You need to explore your partner, get to know him or her with your fingers, your lips, your tongue, your skin. You should be able to know them blindfolded. If I learned anything that was ever important, it was that." She let go, placing a delicate kiss in front of his ear. Her voice was a cool whisper. "I want you to get to know my skin. It's horrible, but I still think you should."

(Reply to this) (Parent) (Thread)


[info]inmyownworld
2009-05-17 08:46 pm UTC (link)
L shivered in appreciation as Laura caressed his chest through his shirt, watching the way her arms and shoulders moved as they removed first her shirt from his body, and then his own. "I'm sure," he said, locking eyes with her, the gesture deliberate and intense.

As his bony and still somewhat bruised chest was uncovered, he curled into himself slightly. He'd always been a little self-conscious of his skinniness, but he'd never really done anything to effectively put on fat or muscle. He ate lots of sweets, certainly, but he had a fast metabolism and was never sitting perfectly still, and he used so many calories with his brain that no matter what he ate, he could never keep up. Despite himself, he did find some humor in Laura pointing out that he was not a robot, since, for once, he was actually glad that he wasn't. He rather liked that Laura used her teeth, sensing innately that there was no real difference between the feel of living and dead teeth.

It was a struggle, and somewhat stressful, for L to maintain eye contact with the living, but it was getting easier to do so with Laura. Clasping her waist, abandoning his usual bi-fingered approach, he could feel the muscles beneath the skin bending and working to grind herself teasingly into his lap. She scarcely even needed to tell him to get to know her skin; already, the desire to explore further had set in. He stroked upward first, reverently, carefully, feeling the hard definition of Laura's ribs and then the smooth, rounded swell of her breasts, still cradled by the black lace of her bra. There were so many "firsts," for L in this encounter... "Sorry... may I take this off?" he asked, reaching towards the clasps between Laura's shoulder blades.

(Reply to this) (Parent) (Thread)


[info]spitandviolets
2009-05-17 10:09 pm UTC (link)
His skinny frame beneath her was an entirely new sight. She hadn't been the kind of girl that skinny guys had usually gone for. Most of the boys she'd been with in high school were overweight or at least fit, and Shadow had possessed muscles. Additionally, it wasn't often that she had ever been on top. She had been the kind of girl that men had liked to dominate, and, as such, had usually been on the bottom. Her icy fingers walked themselves over his ribs, delicately picking out the bone here and there. As she traced the bruises on his chest, she could feel the blood pumping through his veins, and it was somehow sensual. Flipping her hand over, she stroked up to his shoulders. Her hands wrapped gently around them, squeezing and rubbing in a deep, calming massage. She tried to wrap her mind around this new and novel man. He was tall, he was slender, and he still made her feel powerless. He could think circles around her. Perhaps that was what really frightened her about L, and that was what made her really respect him. All of the brawn she now possessed meant nothing, for he was the brains.

When he grabbed her around the middle, Laura actually let out a cry of surprise. It was a little murmur of delight, more accurately, but for her it was incredibly expressive. She was shocked that he was not holding her delicately, for she had never seen him actually grasp anything roughly. The gentle squeeze that his hands gave as they ran over her form made her shudder. Beneath the thin layer of skin that covered her flesh and bones, even her viscera felt warmer. As his fingers traveled, he would feel the scars that marked her body. From the end of the V on her sternum to her navel was a long, vertical scar that had been stitched up very carefully. There was no wire or floss or cording showing in the slightest. There were smaller, more speckled scars from things that had happened in the accident, and they ranged in size from centimeters to inches. There were also older scars, ones that had happened in life, here and there on her body. Just below her breastbone was a small, diagonal scar. There was also one on her upper arm. In the dim light, the most noticeable scar was the staples in her shoulder which glittered in the dim light.

She tilted her head back as his hands ran upwards, stroking over her cloth-covered breasts. How long? Spans of time rushed through her mind like the flipping pages of a photo album. Too long was the correct answer. Feeling his fingers on the clasp of her bra, Laura gnawed her lip seductively and made a coy face at him. She batted her eyelashes a little. "You want to take it off, do you?" She chuckled softly, for a giggle would not quite sound right. "Well...all right, then. You can take it off. But if it's the first one that you've ever handled, it's better if you see what you're doing. Allow me to help you."

Laura slid to her feet like some kind of serpent woman. She was the snake for the moment. Turning around so her back was to him once more, she reseated herself on his lap. The clasp was obscured by her long, dark hair. Picking it up, she twisted it a few times and tucked it so it was up, and it stayed, giving him a good look at the intricate hook and eye closure of her bra. "All yours," she said playfully. Looking over her shoulder, she winked at him.

(Reply to this) (Parent) (Thread)


[info]inmyownworld
2009-05-18 12:30 am UTC (link)
Skinny boys typically learned very quickly to be afraid of women like Laura. One reason was because the overweight and muscular boys also liked girls, and were further developed physically. So, rather than risk getting beaten up or humiliated, men like L tended to focus their attention away from girls, study hard, and pursue high-powered and competitive careers where your mind was more important than your body. Then, after they were at the top of their game, with lots of money and people working beneath them, they started to court women. And it often worked out pretty well. Of course, these were "men like L" who were unlike him, in that they actually possessed a structure of social skills. Even at twenty-five, L's first time promised to be somewhat adolescent, and both partners seemed to realize that, hence Laura's position on top. Even if L had ventured to take that position himself, the result probably would have been somewhat laughable, since he had yet to possess the confidence that was required for that role. Even as Laura analyzed L, he was, in turn, doing the same for her. But L had inhabited a relatively small world where this was concerned, and Laura was his first, so he was setting a constant in his mind more than judging her against others he had (or rather, hadn't) known.

L noticed the uncharacteristically expressive sound from Laura, and he interpreted it as a signal that he was doing something right. Though they didn't look it, L's hands were strong. Deft on a piano, computer keyboard, or around lab equipment, it took his spindly fingers a little while to adjust to the environment of "woman." He did, indeed, feel her scars, which he closed his eyes as he ran his hands over. He used an even lighter touch for those, probing the places where the flesh had been separated with a surgeon's delicacy and a lover's wonderment. To L, these were not out-of-place; they were as natural as the curve of Laura's back, her waist, the shadowy mystery her panties concealed, her breasts. As he memorized her form as she'd instructed, he realized that after a time, he would find it odd to encounter a woman who did not possess scars like that. Of course, he noticed his own handiwork, the staples, and despite the painstaking effort he had put into their successful completion, they looked a bit out-of-place compared to the precise skill that the other wounds had been closed with. Still, L rather liked looking at the staples in Laura's arm; it reminded him of how they'd met.

It was a good thing that Laura had turned around to allow L easier access. For all his genius, he was a man, and therefore likely suffered from clasp-lexia. However, it seemed fairly self-explanatory. L's intuition, like a woman's, tended to be very good, and it really did seem like there was nothing to it except unclasping the hooks and the metal loops. His eyes strayed every now and then towards Laura's upper back and her neck, the sole distractions from the task at hand. It was a puzzle, and L thrived on puzzles. "All mine? Do you promise?" he mumbled, undoing the last clasp and carefully slipping the straps down over Laura's shoulders. Of course, as long as Laura was still holding her hair up, it was an opportunity to explore her skin with his mouth, which he promptly took advantage of, kissing Laura's shoulders and neck slowly and searchingly.

(Reply to this) (Parent) (Thread)


[info]spitandviolets
2009-05-21 01:06 am UTC (link)
She'd never stopped to think that the kind of boys who did like Laura drove the ones that she thought didn't like her away. In fact, she'd never given much thought to the kind of boys who did and did not like her. Things had simply happened back when she was young; there was no explaining, and there was no analyzing. It was safer to just not bother thinking about it. If there was one thing that she knew for sure it was that "men like L" never "courted" women like herself. By the time they had money and power and status, the curvy girls of high school had become little more than a distant memory.

It had been a while since she had been on top, but that was not to say that she disliked it in any way. In fact, the novelty inspired her. It was an incredibly intimate position, perhaps too intimate for herself. There was a whole world of looking and touching that they could both do. Still, she managed to give one of those hopeless smiles down at him to help comfort him a little bit. She did not want anything to be awkward for him, even if it was a touch foreign for herself. She was very good lately at playing it cool, and that was her plan. Staying calm, acting like everything was just smooth and normal and perfect, would make it so.

The sensation of his hands running over her skin was odd, to say the least. His fingers pressed into the tender spots that were her scars, each one delicately stitched together, each one fragile. Too much pressure and he would be easily able to see what, exactly, she was made of. The thought horrified her, though she was sure he'd be a gentleman about it. Still, that type of thing was what made it all feel slightly wrong. Part of her wanted to stop him, but the majority would not allow such an action. She could not imagine him stopping nor could she imagine him with another woman, especially one who didn't possess such gratuitous scarring as she did. It was in that moment that she realized it would be much harder for her to make him keep his promise; perhaps she never would.

The stapled arm had become one of her favorite features. If she had wanted, she could have made them go away already. She could, at any moment, become less dead. Cielo, after all, had given her a bottle of Norn water, and she was fairly certain that it would work. Still, the staples did not bother her enough to merit a stronger form of repair. She had not sought the assistance of a doctor nor had she even sipped from her water bottle. Noticing his eyes on the scar, she slid a hand up, touching it absently with her fingertips. "Striking, hm? It's like my very own form of body armor. I don't know much that can bite through staples."

She leaned forward as his hands touched her back. It had been quite a while since she had removed a bra. It wasn't something she tended to think a lot about. Wearing one had become automatic, and so the habit had continued in death. She supposed she needed one now more than ever. Gravity had the habit of taking effect at inopportune moments. As the straps slithered down her shoulders and arms, she eased it along the rest of the way, tossing one of her last remaining garments to the side. Exposed, she did not move much when his lips ran over the flesh of her neck and shoulders. Pressing back against him, making herself more comfortable in his lap, she seemed to melt into him. Her free hand, the one that was not holding her hair, reached back, gently tugging his head down to press his head into the space between her neck and shoulder. She tilted her head a little, rubbing her cheek against his.

"How does it look in the back?" she asked. "A year dead and I still don't have the courage to look into a mirror."

(Reply to this) (Parent) (Thread)


[info]inmyownworld
2009-05-21 01:32 am UTC (link)
From behind, L had a certain security, able to touch and explore Laura intimately without fear of eye contact. He grinned awkwardly, amused and embarrassed at her glowing mention of the staples. It did make him feel a little bit more like a hero, though, to hear that he had provided her with armor. That he was somehow protecting the woman who needed no protecting, even though he seemed like the least likeliest person to provide anything with protection. Carefully, as if the staples would burn him, he ran his fingertips along them, one more place to ghost over in his quest to learn Laura.

Altogether, L didn't think much about bras and breasts. They were part of women, certainly, and were often displayed provocatively, but L had never paid much attention to them. Wedy had worn very revealing clothes, almost every time L had seen her, and one of the things she had laughed about was his complete inability to get excited about her cleavage. Wedy had been used to men staring, admiring, praising wolfishly with their eyes, while L had simply muttered instructions in his clipped voice. She had liked him for it, to L's bafflement. Would Laura dislike him, now that he was able to feel and comprehend desire?

Laura had a beautifully pale back. "It looks gorgeous," he said, trying out a word he didn't use often. He ran his thumbs over the slight indentations the straps had left in Laura's skin, watching the way they contrasted with the scars and scarcely-visible stitches. "It's interesting... unique... lovely..." he reached forward, his handling of Laura's breasts exceedingly timid at first, as they were the first ones he had ever touched. He found, very quickly, that he liked the feel of them, the way they fit into his palms and overflowed just slightly from his grasp. They excited him further, and his arms tightened around Laura as he felt her cheek cool against his own.

(Reply to this) (Parent) (Thread)


[info]spitandviolets
2009-05-21 01:57 pm UTC (link)
"They don't feel anything," she said absently as his fingers touched at the staples. "They don't hurt, they don't feel cold, they don't feel warmth. I wonder, one day, if my entire body will be like the staples. Will it ever be that not even human warmth will reach me? Will I become truly empty? Will even the feeling of the void cease to bother me? What will I be, then? It isn't something that I think of often; in fact, it only just crossed my mind at this exact moment. It's hard, because I don't know what thoughts and memories are mine. I get mixed up sometimes. The dead and I, we sometimes find ourselves together. I can hear them, and I know what they know. But this," she said, turning to him, her eyes half closed, "this is mine. This memory is mine. It will always be mine, more mine than any memory I had in life. Even if I lose this, someone like me, someone out there, one day, will remember it. And they will know that this moment belonged to Laura Moon, the dead, and L, the genius."

Closing her eyes, she leaned in and kissed him square on the lips. Her back arched slightly, pressing her chest into his hand. The skin was cold to his touch, and it didn't respond as living flesh might with goosebumps. It was strange for her, this form of the erotic, for she had no knowledge of how her body would respond to such things. As if she had been reborn, and in a way she had been, she was unfamiliar once again with intimacy. The motions were all familiar, but the responses were novel. And, in truth, she found herself a bit of a disappointment. Simply the sensation of human flesh against her own cold, dead corpse was erotic; any gratuitous touching, therefore, was only an amplification of that overload of sensation.

For a moment, Laura's mind got mixed up. She slipped to somewhere else, into the void of time and space, and into her travel magazines, or maybe into the mind of a traveler. There was a statue that stood out in her brain. It depicted an angel with an arrow pointed towards a woman's heart. Golden rays of light that were made of gold stood out in sharp relief behind the two, and the look on the saint's face was unmistakable. "The Ecstasy of Saint Therese," she murmured as she pulled away from the kiss, her eyes open. Realizing that she had spoken what she had been meant only to think, she pressed her forehead against his. "Have you ever heard of it? Or, better yet, have you ever seen it? You've been so many places."

Laura never talked this much during sex when she was alive. It was, perhaps, that she had never felt this comfortable during sex while she was alive. Reluctantly prying herself away from his exploring grasp, she turned to face him once more. Her hands slid to his hips, fingertips lightly grasping at the edge of his pants. "You know," she said, "I think that you still have too many clothes on. I am looking far more naked than you are, don't you think?"

(Reply to this) (Parent) (Thread)


[info]inmyownworld
2009-05-21 02:50 pm UTC (link)
L wasn't sure if he should be sad or happy that the painful looking staples were sensation-less, but his fingers slipped away from them once Laura reminded him of that fact. It was pointless to caress something that couldn't feel, and even the fledgling lover L could deduce that much. It shouldn't have been conducive to the spirit of the moment, hearing Laura say that she heard the voices of the dead, but indeed, this memory belonged to them both. And might flicker into someone else's mind someday, seeing them for what they were or what they were becoming in each other's presence. Because, while L was a genius and Laura was dead, L was content to simply settle for "boy" and "girl".

This form of the erotic was strange for both of them. The novelty, the reactions of their bodies finding an uneasy tempo despite Laura's state of living death. L sought to cover more of her body with his hands, if only to warm her as much as he was capable. Since they were both learning intimacy, Laura rediscovering it and L feeling it for the first time, there was great pleasure for mutual exploration. L's journeys of discovery were usually dark and lonely, and this set of circumstances enthralled him.

"That's in Rome," L said, without skipping a beat, his mind latching onto the reference and quickly locating it in his mind's network. "In the Santa Maria della Vittoria, the Cornaro Chapel... and the artist was Giovanni Lorenzo Bernini." There were all the facts. The picture that accompanied was one that L had only seen photographs of. When in Rome, he had never ventured into churches. Even sanctuaries were not safe enough for the national treasure that had been L. "It's beautiful," he said, after a moment, unable to remain fixated on art that was worlds away while his senses and physical reactions were building to a fever pitch. It was probably easier for Laura to think and converse about other things, but L's intense focus and concentration often caused him to falter.

When Laura turned to face him, L's eyes widened momentarily. She had a beautiful form, and the subtraction of her bra only added to L's impression. Even the stitches seemed erotic, at this point; L was learning quickly that he was sexually impressionable. Chances were that, if Laura had put a lobster on her head at that point, L would find it erotic and probably develop a fetish later on down the road.

There was nothing erotic, on the other hand, about a skinny boy taking off his jeans. When women shed their garments, there was a certain burlesque, seductive quality even if they only put minimal effort into the show. When shaped like a ruler, taking clothes off served one purpose, and it was a boring purpose. Awkwardly, L shifted himself so that he could slide his jeans down over his bony hips, revealing dull gray boxer shorts. It took a substantial effort to keep from curling into himself when he felt the cold air against his more sensitive bits.



(Reply to this) (Parent) (Thread)


[info]spitandviolets
2009-05-30 01:06 am UTC (link)
"I know how she feels," Laura murmured after L's recitation of facts concerning Bernini's statue. She smirked faintly, her fingers stroking over his chest. She drew a heart shape on his chest with her index finger over where his heart was; she only knew because she could hear it everywhere. "You're the angel, and your touch is divine. The feel of you, of your skin, of your warmth, is unlike anything I've ever experienced, in this part of my existence or the last two. You have an arrow, and it's pointed straight at my heart. Is it possible for me to bestow that, or this, type of rapture upon you?" She leaned in, kissing him gently, her fingertips cupping his face. "You're beautiful. You're so vivid and alive. I will make you feel more so."

The thing about being dead was that there was only fact and truth. There were no lies, no speculation, not even in a case like this. She had to speak in truths, and she was certain that she would do everything in her power to make him feel like the saint instead of the angel. Her head tilted to the side, eyelashes lightly brushing against his cheek. It was a gesture of appreciation for the awe he had exhibited when she'd turned around. At that point, she had half expected him to flee in terror. She could never get used to the scar that ran from her sternum to her navel. The entirety of her torso had been in pieces; that was unsettling, even for her.

Reluctantly, her body let him go when he pulled away to undress. She should have offered to help, but there was always something endearingly awkward about a guy getting undressed. Laura, like L, knew that men had very little finesse when it came to stripping down. Shadow had forgotten to take off his socks before his pants one time when they were sleeping together, and she had fallen into hysterics. Needless to say, it had been intimate self-love on both of their parts that night. She just could not look at him straight after seeing him in only underwear and white tube socks half way to his knees. L, however, was a little more graceful. It could have been that he didn't have tube socks on, and it also could have been that he wasn't as...tough...as shadow. He was skinny, like a ruler, not the muscled bear of a gentleman that Shadow had been. There was almost something more feminine, though she wasn't about to voice that. He probably would have been offended, even if it was true, and for once she was able to bite her tongue and not say something. Instead, she only gave him one of those half-smiles of hers.

"Much better," she said, crawling to him on all fours. Laura looked much like the cougar that she had utterly destroyed in the forest all those days ago. Leaning down, she kissed at his inner calf, her dark eyes gazing up the length of his body. "I'm not so alone if you're mostly naked with me." Her lips continued to brush along his leg, kissing at the inside of his knee, before she began straddling his body once more. She kissed his thigh, slowly, higher, before she moved her lips away and began sliding up his body once more. She did not allow any part of her to touch those more sensitive bits, her entire frame hovering just that much above him. Once she was out of dangerous territory, though, she began kissing again, from his navel upwards.

Meeting his face once more, she nibbled her lower lip. Kissing the tip of his nose, she chuckled darkly. "Hi," she said. "I'm Laura. How are you doing?"

(Reply to this) (Parent) (Thread)


[info]inmyownworld
2009-05-30 10:31 am UTC (link)
Laura's claim to know how Therese felt left him tongue-tied. It was a very romantic thing to say, when he thought about it, but he was still getting used to the concept of pillow-talk. He felt like he should be able to reciprocate, and use his articulate silver tongue to charm Laura in return, but it seemed to cleave to the roof of his mouth. He didn't speak for fear that he would prove himself to be a fool, which was the last thing he wanted to happen. It was almost more than he could take when Laura went so far as to call him an angel; he had to hide his embarrassed grin with his hands, shaking his head in silent protest. L knew better than most how profoundly flawed his character was, and to be compared to something that pure and divine and inspiring of a saint's ecstasy sounded funny to him. But flattering, and L was no critic of flattery. He loved being praised, even if it was a little over-the-top. "Yes... it is more than possible... you're managing it just fine," L admitted, a blush finding his way into his usually ashy cheeks when she went so far as to call him beautiful. In someone's eyes, at least, skinny, awkward, sad L was beautiful, and that was enough to make him cease to want Laura. No... he no longer wanted her. Now he needed her.

L was probably the closest to an exact opposite that Shadow had. In contrast to the large, dark man, L was slight and fair, with dark hair but very pale skin. A winter, like Laura. It was odd, but interesting, the ways that the two of them resembled each other. Their eyes were different, though; hen he could see them, L always admired Laura's startlingly blue ones. They always looked back at him, unafraid and unapologetic, and at others the same way, whereas L's sad grey eyes were usually turned away from any sort of contact or connection. It was another testimony to Laura's ability to reach L that he was occasionally able to meet her gaze.

For the first time that evening, fear truly gripped L, but it had nothing to do with Laura's state of non-living. Instead, it had everything to do with the fact that he was getting closer and closer to taking a plunge into the unknown. Sex was still, in most ways, a complete mystery to him. He knew, from hearing stories and understanding its purpose, that it was meant to be a celebration and an affirmation of life in its purest form, but how would that change or be the same, with a woman who was no longer living? His hands continued to touch Laura where they could, stroking her hair as she kissed his inner thigh, her shoulders and breasts and waist as she teasingly moved back up to meet him. He thought that she was going to kiss his mouth, but she kissed his nose instead, and the surprise delighted him.

The casual introduction, as if the two of them were meeting each other for the first time, was humorous but oddly appropriate. "I'm L," he said, mimicking his lover, mirroring her to show his appreciation of her expertly done foreplay. "I'm fine, thank you. Are things about to get even better?"

(Reply to this) (Parent) (Thread)


[info]spitandviolets
2009-05-31 02:14 am UTC (link)
A celebration of life. Laura had never heard it described that way. Obviously, she did not hang out in the elite and sentimental circles that L had. After all, for her, sex had always been something that one just did. It was an act. She did it because it felt good, and it felt natural. There wasn't a whole lot of thinking that went into it. When she had done it in the past, she had always considered it practice of sorts. Having children was a one-shot deal, Russian Roulette in a way. She wanted lots and lots of practice before it was time to actually make some. Now this, this was like finally winning the lottery when you were eighty-seven; having sex was something she thought she'd never experience ever again.

In a way, though, it was a celebration of life. Perhaps more so, it was a celebration of existence, of survival. After all, how had Laura been returned to a state of existence after her time had come? How had L been saved from the jaws of death in his own world at the hand of a mass murderer? How had they ended up in this place, at the same time, and how had he been in the drug store when Laura was returning from killing a cougar? And together, they were surviving. Just as the human race had done from the beginning, they were together despite insurmountable odds. It truly was the power of the human spirit, and perhaps it reflected part of Laura Moon that was, indeed, still a human being. Their current positioning was hundreds, thousands of years old, and it was a dance that had been burned into the minds of the very first human beings. It was primal, dangerous, and it was, somehow, wrong. Their meeting was the union of life and death, yet they were two sides of the same coin. Instead of being back to back, they were, for once, face to face, embracing each other.

And these thoughts, as they entered Laura Moon's brain, clearly belonged to someone else. She had no such wisdom, no such anthropological knowledge, and no awe at the human condition. Human, after all, was something that she had once been; she was not that anymore.

She had never stopped to ponder how similar they must have looked. Pale? Check. Dark eyes? Check. Detached manner of speaking? Check. How could they have been in such an enclosed area and not found each other? While opposites did have a tendency to attract, like did tend to call to like. So close together, and so naked, the lines between them seemed to blur, even to Laura's sharp vision.

"Even better?" she said, her fingers lightly touching along his sides. Her touch was like a feather, the pads of her fingers barely stroking at his skin. "Well, I don't know about that. I mean, I was thinking that I might be boring you. Why don't we just call it like it is and head to bed, hm?" Leaning down, Laura tucked her head into his shoulder, eyes closing. She relaxed a little, but her butt was still up in the air. Her angle gave him line of sight all the way down her spine. "See? I'm already asleep. Watch how convincing I can be." She chuckled and laid there, eyes closed, for a few moments.

Her body began to shift against him. Lowering herself to sit on his lap, she was pressed firmly against him, chest against chest, hips against hips. Though she was light, she at least had enough weight in her still to feel somewhat substantial. Her lips kissed along his collar bone, nipping gently. She pressed herself against him, practically trying to become part of him, as her knees hooked into his hips, anchoring her firmly in place. Wild horses probably would not have been able to shake her off of him.

"How can I make it better?" she asked, her voice a whisper against the soft flesh of his shoulder.

(Reply to this) (Parent) (Thread)


[info]inmyownworld
2009-05-31 11:48 pm UTC (link)
To perseverance. To our tenacity and unwillingness to fade into silence. If L had had a wine glass, he would have toasted Laura just then for those astute thoughts. Because, while their union was strange, and a combination of two things that were not meant to mingle in this way, it didn't feel wrong to him. A virgin about to embark on a new page of his existence, L's busy mind was in overdrive just thinking about the act of sex; he certainly wasn't worried about whether fucking Laura was right or wrong. He just knew that it felt more right than any other encounter with the opposite sex he had ever had.

If the lines between them were blurring, L wanted to eliminate them entirely. She was teasing him now, tantalizing him with her body and her words, and it both frustrated and thrilled the young detective. She joked about boring him, when he was so clearly interested, and as painfully hard as a man could get under these circumstances. As she laid against him, bosom to bosom, her still heart and his pounding one in close proximity.

When Laura asked how she could make it better, L realized that she truly was teasing him, asking him to put something so primal and obvious into words when he was still figuring it all out from a first-person perspective. "I want to make love to you. Now. Please," he said, in a deliberately steady voice.

(Reply to this) (Parent) (Thread)


[info]spitandviolets
2009-06-02 01:04 pm UTC (link)
No one had ever toasted Laura. At her wedding, she had pulled the trump card by having the organist play Scooby Doo. There was no father of the bride speech because he was dead, and her best friends were too drunk to bother doing it. Her mother was wearing black. There had been no celebration for her death, no reception at her home after the burial. Laura had never been celebrated, not since her christening, which was a long time ago. Still, it was better off that she hadn't heard it. She could not offer such beautiful words the full appreciation that they merited. After all, she wasn't even sure that she could still cry. She doubted it.

Would L cry? She had known guys like that. They always wept after sex, and it had always unsettled her. There had only been a few times when she'd done so herself after intimacy, and it was because a sense of overwhelming clarity had washed over her. When she cried, it felt like something had been lost. She had never figured out what it was, but it felt like some part of her was ripped away, never to be replaced again. In hindsight, perhaps it was a part of her heart. Every single person walked away with a little piece of her, taking and chipping, until she was left with what she was at present: hollow. Maybe she would have been one of those dead people while she was still alive. How long, after all, could her vibrancy have lasted?

Sliding off of him, she stood up and removed the last remaining trace of garment from her body. She stood before him, dark hair clinging to her pale body in the dimly lit room. At least nobody else would be walking in just then. The last thing she wanted was anybody else's, present company excluded, upon her. The scars, after all, were scattered and everywhere, impossible to hide when she was anything less than fully clothed. The flesh of her right hip still held traces of a bruise, and there was something odd about the way her hips came together. It was like they had been pieced back together.

"Are you sure?" she asked with as much emotion and concern as she could muster. Admittedly, this was not a lot, but she hoped that it conveyed what she was going for. "With your heart. Not with your mind. Are you positive that this is what you want?" It was better to give him an out. After all, she wasn't even certain that it would be that good. The last thing she wanted was for sex, once more, to muck things up socially for her. Granted, the probability of death in this particular situation was slim, which was a comfort.

(Reply to this) (Parent) (Thread)


[info]inmyownworld
2009-06-02 01:30 pm UTC (link)
No one had ever toasted L, either, at least not in his presence. It had probably been done as a joke somewhere along the line, after a difficult case. Police detectives, pouring champagne and laughing after he'd found the missing puzzle piece, would raise their glasses, first to each other, and then to "L, the computer detective." Smirks all around. Turning to irreverence as more alcohol was poured, and then to mocking. Computer detective, castrated machine, single-minded idiot savant. Maybe he had the fame and fear that the title L invoked, but he would never have a wedding or a personal toast, simply for the sake of being himself and winning someone else's affection.

That had dawned on L in the rain. He had never been to a wedding, and only knew, vaguely, that bells had something to do with them. Bells meant the beginning of a journey. Or the end... since every beginning is, of course, the end of something else. So it goes.

The uncertainty of this moment, for L, was frightening. It wasn't often that he was in a situation where someone else was more competent than he was, since he habitually stuck to things he was good at. As Laura removed her panties and stood before him, undressed, vulnerable, willing, something changed inside of him. This belonged to them, this moment, and it was no one else's. "I'm sure," he said, his heart pounding so loudly that even he could hear it. "I want you more than I've ever wanted anything." Not only that, he felt like he was being pulled apart with the urgency of his body's various new sensations. Nature was nudging him, telling him that something needed to be done. Procreate, stupid. It's so easy a rabbit can do it.

(Reply to this) (Parent) (Thread)


[info]spitandviolets
2009-06-02 02:18 pm UTC (link)
"You're scared," she said. Reaching out, she touched his cheek gently with the back of her hand. His blood and pulse was like thunder roaring in her head. She heard it all. There was no hiding from Laura in a situation such as this. It was when the line between the living and the dead was most clearly drawn.

Her hands slid down his body, hooking into the edge of his boxers and pulling down carefully. The last thing she wanted was to scare him more. Her motions were slow, deliberate, like she was undressing a porcelain doll. Though her eyes moved here and there, it took conscious effort not to stare. She didn't want to give him the vibe of a lamb that was about to be consumed by a wolf. His heart was pounding so loudly, so violently, that she had to wonder what was going through his mind.

Laura slid over him once more, and her lips met his. She kissed him delicately, tenderly, her hand lightly resting on the side of his neck. Her thumb gently stroked over his carotid artery. When she pulled away, she closed her eyes and pressed her forehead into the side of his neck where her hand had been. "Just breathe," she said softly. "I promise you that it isn't going to hurt. That's the girl's job, honestly, to hurt. But it doesn't anymore. Firstly, I can't feel pain. Secondly, I've had a good deal of practice. If you need to, talk to me. Tell me if anything doesn't feel right. If you want to stop, we'll stop. This is all on you. I know it's sometimes hard to communicate, but I won't know if you don't tell me."

Her hips shifted, and she positioned herself to complete the ancient, primal rite that they had been performing. She wondered why there were so many goddesses with sex in their pantheon, but now she knew. It really was a woman's responsibility, almost the whole thing. And that wasn't necessarily a bad thing. Her lips slid up, and she bit his earlobe as they joined significantly. It was one fluid motion, not awkward or slow in the least. It was better to just go for it, she had assumed. There was no need to torture poor L any longer. Automatically, more out of habit, she forced out a long, low breath. It seemed the hard part was over. The rest was all intuition and instinct, which he hopefully possessed.

Staying still, she leaned in, her arms wrapping around him as best as she could. Laura held him tightly for a moment, waiting, counting the space between each of his breaths. She wanted to be attentive, to make sure he knew that she was paying attention to him and not just running on autopilot. Basking in the warmth that was unlike anything she had felt since dying, her toes curled. She missed being human. She missed being able to feel on a regular basis. But this was a close second.

(Reply to this) (Parent) (Thread)


[info]inmyownworld
2009-06-03 01:22 am UTC (link)
L wanted to deny that he was afraid, to vanish his fear and reassure Laura with his eyes and his words, but he knew that such an effort would be laughably futile. His heart was pounding and he was actually trembling slightly, but there was nothing in his heart or mind that was holding him back. "I'm not scared... just nervous..." he admitted softly, fighting the urge to bring his hands and arms closer to his chest and keeping them around Laura, being careful not to restrict her movements.

The supreme delicacy with which Laura removed his shorts was unexpected, but deeply appreciated, by the young man. It was cold, in more ways than one, with Laura's hands and the somewhat nippy air, and L was finding that he was self-conscious of being so completely vulnerable and exposed. He reminded himself that he was all right, that it was safe, with Laura. He reset himself, pacing his thoughts as she kissed him and returned, momentarily, to something familiar. He was good at kissing, he thought, and it boosted his confidence. Her soft instructions and assurances made him hold her closer, but in all honesty, he couldn't imagine stopping. Things felt so right, and so natural, so right and wrong at the same time... their union was paradox and intriguing and it defied odds, yet remained as absurdly simple as the union of any given couple in history. He closed his eyes, and for the first time in his life since his mother had turned the steering wheel sharply to the left, he placed his fate in the hands of a woman.

It was so smoothly and expertly done that L couldn't honestly tell where it had begun and ended, except that it wasn't ending, and it was turning into something that barraged all of his senses simultaneously. As she held him, embracing him with her arms and her body, he focused on slowing his breathing when his initial response was to breathe faster. He had to steady the trembling in his limbs, and keep from hyperventilating, since it would have been horribly embarrassing if he passed out due to lack of oxygen intake the moment he started engaging in intercourse. Not that all of this was consciously running through his thoughts... at the moment, his attention was focused entirely on Laura's beauty, and what her body was doing for his, and the way he was inside and under her and connected with her all at once.

Fortunately, nature has a way of teasing even the shyest and most socially backward boys forward when the opportunity to have sex is offered. L possessed intuition in spades, and instinct was only a matter of moving his hips. He started to rock them upward, slowly, uncertainly, half-expecting to be told that he was doing something wrong. But regardless... it felt incredible. He couldn't decide whether he wanted to hold Laura closer and compromise the angle, or let her sit perpendicular to his body so that all of her slight weight could be concentrated on his hips and all of their incidental parts.

(Reply to this) (Parent) (Thread)


[info]spitandviolets
2009-06-03 02:28 am UTC (link)
Nervous was not something that she could clearly remember. She wished that she could. It lead to moments of giddy anticipation, and it was a good warning mechanism. Still, all she could do was hope that his nerves would fade. Hopefully her careful attention to detail was enough to make him relax. She would not have been wholly alarmed, however, if he had passed out in the middle of it all. She was very understanding and compassionate, and she was a person who was good to have around in the face of a crisis. Fainting during sex counted as a crisis, though it was more so for him than for her. She would have been disappointed, but it would have been excusable.

The fact that his breathing slowed seemed unusual to her. His pulse was pounding, and his body was doing some serious work. Did he not need more oxygen? Then again, it was important to stay calm for a guy. She had never just lost it, but she had been with guys who had. Honestly, L was lasting far longer than some men she had known biblicaly over the years. There was one gentleman who had been finished the moment that she'd unzipped his pants. That had been an inconvenient mess; her hair hadn't felt quite right for several days. There was also the time that he had called it a night when she had sat in his lap. This was going very, very well, all things considered. He was performing admirably.

"Yes," she hissed, "that's better." The friction of his skin, as warm as the sun to her, against her own was wonderfully stimulating. The choice was made for him when she sat up, her hips resting squarely against his. If he wanted it differently, he was free to adjust her as necessary. After all, even he could have lifted her, and even from this position. Tilting her head back, she gripped at her thighs, holding onto them as she let him dictate the flow of her movements. Part of her was worried that she was taking advantage of him somehow; she had to keep reminding herself that he wasn't so young. He chose to be there, sharing himself with her. She had not taken anything, and she never would. The option would always be his. Part of her longed for the Laura Moon who would take the initiative, who would attempt, on a nearly daily basis, to seduce him. Still, this was better. She was there for him, to love him and to keep him safe.

(Reply to this) (Parent)


[info]inmyownworld
2009-06-03 01:35 pm UTC (link)
If L knew one thing very well, at this time, it was that the last thing he wanted to do was disappoint Laura. Even though her death essentially meant, when he thought about it too hard, that there shouldn't be any expectations, he felt obligated to perform as well with her as with any woman. Better, in fact, because it was starting to look like she was his girlfriend, in no uncertain terms.

L liked certain terms. Speaking of which, he knew for a fact that Laura was very, very sexy, and that he wasn't used to this amount of stimulation. Inside of her, he was being held, and squeezed, and encouraged, and when a man was as willing as L, it didn't take much encouragement, especially the first time. Trying to match and meet her motions, falling into the rhythm and feeling along her thighs until he found her hands, he tried very hard to hold out and make the most intimate moment he'd ever had last longer. However, it seemed that biology worked against one, even when one thought about it very hard.

His brain, normally an extremely involved part of everything from cognition to movement, was suddenly blurred out and left in the dust. Though L had had wet dreams on occasion, waking perplexed, sticky, and ashamed, it was his first time experiencing the thoughtless haze of orgasm. He was breathless, panting, and, he'd realize later, completely out of control. Strangely, it wouldn't bother him that much, because he was learning, quickly, that it was safe to be out of control with Laura. She would take care of him.

He wanted to warn her, but only got as far as "Laura, I'm..." before the most intense physical sensation seized him, shook him, emptied him, and then, as quickly as it had started, left him. They were still joined, but the tension and urgency were gone, and only a sleepy, unwound desire to clean up, eat strawberry shortcake, and then fall asleep with his head on Laura's stomach remained. Only one of those things was probably completely possible, under the circumstances.

(Reply to this) (Thread)


[info]spitandviolets
2009-06-04 11:13 am UTC (link)
She wasn't entirely sure that she was capable of disappointment. After all, was it that strong an emotion? In the sense of not getting any chocolate cake two days after a birthday party, no, not really. In the sense of it raining for an entire week of vacation? A little more so. In the case of never having told her father the day he died that she cared about him, well, yes. That was big enough to matter.

Still, it was very nice that he was doing his best for her, that he was trying. Things were always better when they were mutual. Laura was trying very hard to make this, first of all, significant, and second of all, not creepy. They were both more difficult than she had imagined upon first taking on this responsibility. There was none of the human uncertainty, but undead uncertainty was equally interesting. Was she too cold? Was she hurting him? Was there enough friction? Too much? It was hard to say, especially since all she could feel was his warmth.

When he said her name, she knew, almost instantly, what was happening. "I know," was all that she said, quietly, blankly. And she allowed it to happen, for there was nothing else that she could do.

No matter how times she had been with a man, that moment always snuck up on her. She was attentive, yes, but she was also a bit single minded in so much as that she wanted to do a good job and give her lover the most pleasure possible. Her mind knew before the rest of her, though, and that was a good thing. His pulse started racing, and she could hear his breath starting to catch in his chest. Her hands flipped over, and she twined his fingers with his, holding his hands tightly. Seated atop him, she watched as his body and his expression changed. It was very different from anything she'd experienced while she was alive. After all, she was usually caught up in the moment as well. Here, she could be objective. Here, she could observe him. It was beautiful in ways that humans probably never recognized. She watched as he transformed from the picture of innocence and control into something altogether different. He was wild, free; he had become something ancient.

Despite her best efforts, Laura was filled with that incredible sorrow. Some things never died. She didn't have any explanation for it. Her empathy and her compassion were dead. Then again, maybe she was sorry for herself. After all, she was responsible for this. She'd stolen something that he could never have back. It was her fault, and she was sorry that she had taken it from him. That was not to say she was sorry to have been with him, but she had done it again. What she had tried so hard to get away from, what had been responsible for her death, she could not escape.

She remained atop him for a short time. The moments seemed to stop and spin around backwards. She wasn't staring, but she was watching him for some sort of reaction, some kind of signal. When his shuddering had slowed and almost stopped, she shifted off of him. Laura leaned in, and she gently kissed his eyelids. Grabbing the blanket, she wrapped him in it. He didn't need to catch a chill and get sick. That would be the least considerate thing that she could have done.

Unable to stop herself, she gathered him into her arms. She held him tightly, her fingers stroking through his hair. She wanted to cry, but it didn't seem that it was possible. Inside, then, Laura was crying. The loss of innocence was hard for her to take. She'd wrecked the person she was trying to protect, even if he'd all but asked her to. The fingers of one hand gently gripped at his back, and the other hand pressed his face into her shoulder.

(Reply to this) (Parent) (Thread)


[info]inmyownworld
2009-06-04 06:35 pm UTC (link)
L had done his best, without even having a clear idea of what standards were. For him, that had probably been the hardest part; not knowing what "good" or "excellent" or "poor" were defined as, simply wandering blindly into something he had no previous experience with. But he was gaining ground, and learning quickly, and he couldn't imagine anyone but Laura showing him the way.

A living man, he had been completely unaware of Laura's objective observation of him, but an infant desire for mutual satisfaction was stirring in his personality. He wondered how it had been for his partner, if she had felt anything, or simply been a receptacle for his pleasure. The latter choice was unpleasant; L dismissed it due to the way it seemed to remove Laura's personality and everything he liked about her.

Fingers clasped with Laura's, breath slowing, muscles relaxing, L started to regain his usual composure, along with his signature awkwardness. He felt completely spent, his limbs heavy in a wholesome way. As they separated, L started to curl, feeling naked and vulnerable now that they seemed to be finished, but Laura fixed that by wrapping a blanket around him even before his sleepy body registered the fact that he was cold. Then she wrapped him in an embrace, stroking his messy hair, and it occurred to L that she was holding him like this for a reason. Whether it was to protect him, or heal him, or apologize to him, she needed to know something.

"Laura?" he mumbled into her cool shoulder. "I love you..."

(Reply to this) (Parent) (Thread)


[info]spitandviolets
2009-06-04 10:06 pm UTC (link)
The fact of the matter was that she didn't have any way of teaching him what "good" or "excellent" or "poor" was. This wasn't some class in high school. It was something that people did. As long as the parties involved didn't think negatively about it, it was good. Knowing to what degree that something like this stood up was never readily apparent, and it wasn't stable. Perceptions about sex and relationships were always changing depending on where that relationship was.

And it was very soon that Laura came to the stark realization of where this relationship was.

The words surprised her. She hadn't been expecting them, and they effected her greatly. She couldn't cry, but something inside of her hurt. How was she supposed to answer that? She didn't know if she loved him. She knew that she felt very protective of him, and she knew that she didn't want anything bad to happen to him. She wanted to help him through any problems that he had, and she wanted to always be there. But love? She wasn't sure that it was love. Maybe it was instinct. Maybe the job of the undead, especially ones ruled over by this particular coin, was to protect a human being.

Her grip on him increased, and she held him tighter. It wasn't dangerous, though. She was fully in touch with her strength at the moment, and she was choosing to be firm yet gentle with him. She could not look at him. The idea of meeting his eye at the moment was devastating. Did he not sense her apology, her agony, in the embrace? Was he really going to make her speak to him when she simply did not havve any words to offer?

"L," she said softly. Her fingers, cool and smooth, stroked against his cheek. Turning her head to the side, she kissed his temple. It was incredibly strong, the sentence he'd just said. He didn't have to say that. And part of her wanted to rationalize that it was just afterglow. Yet he seemed to be himself. He was calm in her arms. Why had time seemingly restarted now that their moment was over? Why couldn't they just stay timeless?

(Reply to this) (Parent) (Thread)


[info]inmyownworld
2009-06-05 12:01 am UTC (link)
Whether Laura's job was to love him or protect him, or a combination of both, or not a job at all but a calling or desire... L couldn't understand any of them. He and Laura were opposite sides of a coin facing each other, but there were things that they couldn't communicate. Things that were beyond one another. That was just how it had to be. But it was L's first time saying "I love you" to anyone, and he couldn't deny that there was a connection. Famously odd about expressing his emotions, he'd just articulated a profound one. Not only that, he'd completely offered Laura his heart, at his own risk, through wisdom or folly.

His spirits fell slightly when she didn't return the words. Perhaps he'd spoken them too soon, or with too much sincerity. Maybe Laura was not ready to hear those words from a man who wasn't her husband. Maybe it was too intimate, like eye contact was for L. However, her embrace was still strong and meaningful, yet soft at the same time. They had embraced as lovers, and he had revealed that he loved Laura, but their eyes still could not meet. He would ponder on it, later. For now, he just wanted to fall asleep in her arms, not torturing himself wondering if she could feel that way about a living person. Because, he was himself, and he meant what he said.

"Laura." he nestled closer, turning so that his head was in her lap, closing his eyes. His body wouldn't let him forget how much energy he'd expended a few minutes ago.

(Reply to this) (Parent)

Home | Site Map | Manage Account | TOS | Privacy | Support | FAQs