Warm

Este es un fanfic de Death note, en inglés por que así fue como nació, si no les gusta/pueden con el inglés, usen el traductor de google, o el de altavista o incluso el babelfish, no sean webas.


Title: Warm
Author: Alexxa Sick
Rating: R
Warnings: Mature Language, Sex
Character: L

I can't complain since I'll be paid greatly for the wait as well as for the job. I already drank half of the bottle of wine but haven't touched the sweets: three kinds of pie, two of cakes and strawberry Ice cream. Some nights all I do is watch him eat sweets. I first met Ryuuzaki when some old geezer picked me up in the place I usually worked, the same old fart that picks me up some nights.
It's a little embarrassing but I admit I am anxious, I want him to be here, and not just because the Ice cream is melting, but because I want him. It's always like this, the fancy limo that picks me up, then the expensive hotel (but never the same hotel), the sweets, the long wait, sometimes I wonder what he actually does for a living, or whose son is he, but I've never actually asked, after all he doesn’t pay me to talk, just to be willing.
I am bored, and there’s a TV in the room but I’ve never been fond of watching it. Sometimes Ryuuzaki leaves books in the room, and I like to take a peak even if I don’t quite understand what are they about. He’s smart but not a great talker… I don’t know when I started to look forward to the next time I’d see him, but all weeks I’m in wait for the call, sometimes I can see him twice or three times a week sometimes I see him once in a month.
He isn’t particularly good in bed, and as said, he isn’t much of a talker either, and even I don’t really know why I long for him. I guess it has got to do with the cleanliness and the kinds of attention I don’t get from other clients, maybe with the incredible sweet kisses and the feeling of being a direct contributor to Ryuuzaki homeostasis. I actually looked for the word in the dictionary, the day he told it to me. “Thank you, I really needed my homeostasis restored” he said to me, and I just nodded and smiled, I can’t believe how stupid I feel sometimes when I’m with him.
It’s little more than two hours since I’ve been brought here, I was about freak out, when the old geezer came in, to tell me “Master Ryuuzaki is coming soon, please make your self comfortable”. I did my hair today, so I don’t want to lie in the bed until he sees me, so I pour another glass of wine and drink it faster than the one before. Then the door opens again. Ryuu is wearing the same kind of outfit he always wears, simple, long sleeved, t-shirt, and jeans, no shoes of course, I’ve never seen him using shoes.
He says hi, without looking at me, I feel disappointed, seems the melted strawberry ice cream is more attractive to him than me. He tastes it with the tip of his right forefinger and sighs. He sits in an armchair, looking defeated. I wait for him to tell me what he wants me to do, then he stares at me. “You changed your hair…” he says, “I liked better the other way”.
I smile, but in my head I just wanna punch him in the face. “Don’t be mad doll” So that’s how it’s going to be today, a doll… “you look good, so why don’t you lie in the bed, my pretty doll?”
I walk to the bed, and lie down with my face looking up, hands in each side of my body, as motionless as my anxiousness for Ryuuzaki’s touch allows me. He takes a little while before walking over me, then he seats next to me in the bed, holding the strawberry ice cream bowl, in one hand and a spoon in the other one, he eats the melted ice cream without haste, looking at my still body.
His fingers caress my neck, he’s cold and I shiver. “Stay still, how you want to be a doll twitching like that?” he says before getting another mouthful of ice cream. “Touch me” I hear my voice, I can’t believe I asked him that, I wish he didn’t hear it, but he’s already leaning to kiss me.
After few more hours he’s eating pie in the armchair watching me get dress, he’s only in his underwear, I’m taking my time, I don’t really wanna go. “is my body warm?” he asks me in a weird kind of voice, like a lost child asking ‘d’ya know where mommy is?’. “Yeah, really hot, even”
“Sometimes I feel like I’m not.”
“Why?” I sit in the arm of the chair sliding my arm over his shoulders. But he stands up.
“Never mind, I’m just tired, work’s been pretty f**ked up”
“Wanna talk about it?”
“Can’t. Please take the cake with you in your way out” He says as he walks out the door.