The Plague of Imagination

L: Sleepy Detectives make Good Gossip

This one is probably going to be short, enjoy.

Words: 2317

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The bright screens filled the empty room you and L were sat in. Tired from waking up early from a bad dream, you decided to work to keep the thoughts away. Being up late with L, because you didn't want to face the nightmares once again.

The soft hums of electronics filled your ears stimulating you just enough to stay awake, but not to encourage work to be done.

All your thoughts were jumbled as you tried desperately to think clearly, but the constant cloud of fatigue plagued you with its' persistence.

You could barely keep your eyes open, slowly closing for one second before you opened them wide again, hoping to stay awake.

The air in the main, spacious room was nothing less than cool, helping you to stay awake.

All the other task force members had left for the day after many hours of work. Frankly you were wondering why they didn't stay longer, but then you remembered that most of them had a life,

...

and a family.

L at that moment, was munching on some strawberry cake, it had been a while and he gave up on trying to stay away from the intoxicatingly, delicious sweet. He never really did try to stay away from it though.

It was Ls favorite sweet, and Misa had tried to convince him to stop eating so much sugar. The only thing it accomplished however, was making L want to consume more sweets. Though it also helped give a good laugh from all the task force members about trying to get L to stay away from the sweets.

I mean, you don't blame him. Watari himself, makes half the desserts L has the pleasure to indulge in. If you had Watari as a butler- oh sorry "professional care taker" as L puts it-, you would order him to make you sweets almost all day as well.

Not only was Watari L's great butler, but he was also a great baker and cook. It almost made you want to have your own butler. But you didn't have such money to spend on someone who would just do all your chores, you had to do at the task force. Like filing papers as an example.

You rested your head in your hand, which stood on your elbow, sighing you rested your eyes for a couple seconds. Your eyes enjoying the rest from the bright screen before,

"Y/N ... Y/N?"

A familiar voice called, you couldn't be bothered to reply, so you gave him a soft,

"Hmm?"

"You shouldn't be working this late, it will damage your metal health, and your thinking capacity for tomorrow by roughly, half."

Does this man know who he's talking to?

You softly opened your eyes giving them a second to adjust to the brightness once again before you replied, subtly looking over to him, making eye contact.

"Hypocrite." You smirked, before closing your eyes once again.

You said this softly, inducing a bit of tone into your now, gravely voice. Then looked back to the screen.

Metal against (whatever plates are made out of) sounded off, echoing into the room.

He put his fork down You thought without actually looking over at him, you tried to use the brightness of the screens to your advantage, so you could stay awake longer.

But the longer you stared, the more you just zoned out, going off into space, and almost closing your eyes.

You paused, thinking if something you said set him off.