[L does wonder; he also doesn't question at this particular juncture, because there are other things that are a little more pressing, a little more difficult to navigate. Though mirrors are the things that brought them both here, he won't go look for one for quite some time.
He doesn't like looking at those haunted eyes any more than most other people, in the end.]
Sorry to inconvenience you.
[Stiffly, because though it's almost certainly not Mello's intent, L is so new to the pain he carries filtering over to other living creatures. The private damage he does to his body and mind were never supposed to affect others; even more so for the rare and shameful instances his emotions are an exposed nerve.
He considers sharing that pain in a more direct way. Myr's gentle patience has taught him a few things, though, and he ultimately elects not to verbalize his frustration with a Bond where things can go unsaid, over great distances, and still be understood. He really was spoiled, for what he had with the SQUIP; dwelling on that does nothing to help his state of mind.
He exhales. Stale liquor tastes utterly rank, the morning after. He wishes desperately for a toothbrush, and settles instead for his cold coffee from the night before. The cream's turned slightly rancid; he spits it back into the cup quickly and sets it aside, finally accepting one of the treats Mello offered to chase the parade of evil things plaguing his tongue.
Sweet relief.]
It's gone. The SQUIP is, I mean, and so... it goes without saying that we're not Bonded anymore.
no subject
He doesn't like looking at those haunted eyes any more than most other people, in the end.]
Sorry to inconvenience you.
[Stiffly, because though it's almost certainly not Mello's intent, L is so new to the pain he carries filtering over to other living creatures. The private damage he does to his body and mind were never supposed to affect others; even more so for the rare and shameful instances his emotions are an exposed nerve.
He considers sharing that pain in a more direct way. Myr's gentle patience has taught him a few things, though, and he ultimately elects not to verbalize his frustration with a Bond where things can go unsaid, over great distances, and still be understood. He really was spoiled, for what he had with the SQUIP; dwelling on that does nothing to help his state of mind.
He exhales. Stale liquor tastes utterly rank, the morning after. He wishes desperately for a toothbrush, and settles instead for his cold coffee from the night before. The cream's turned slightly rancid; he spits it back into the cup quickly and sets it aside, finally accepting one of the treats Mello offered to chase the parade of evil things plaguing his tongue.
Sweet relief.]
It's gone. The SQUIP is, I mean, and so... it goes without saying that we're not Bonded anymore.