moonlarked
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“There’s nothing wrong with that. Not all of us are insomniacs.” (What did he see?)
“No. Not everyone is. But you’ve had struggles with it, yes?”
He has to take a gasp of air, force it down his throat as if wrangling a testy animal. It’s perfectly smooth. He’s done this many many times before. “Why would you say that?” he manages.
“You exhibited signs of restlessness and disturbance while in bed. You reacted to them with the pattern of one who’s used to these disturbances. Strangely, you seemed to be covering this up. Unusual tenseness. As if you were worried someone was watching you. Do you struggle with paranoia, Light-kun?”
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Light confesses something. It doesn't end well.
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That’s right. He has one card. A very important card. The reason he’s here, most likely. He is going to slit the ghost’s throat with that card.
As if reading his mind on his face, it smiles. It gestures at his empty plate. “Shinigami love apples.”
He is going to use its heartstrings as tooth floss.
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Or: they both hesitate to pull the trigger.
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“If I could choose how I would die, it would be this. Just this,” Hamlet murmured.
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Introspection, afterward.