Am I in love with just a theme ? ✧
Plot: You watch your boyfriend becoming a serial killer…
An eerie hush permeated the modest bedroom save for the scratching of Light's pen etching yet another convicted criminal's name into that innocuous black notebook.
You couldn't tear your gaze away, stomach roiling in uneasy revulsion at how...casually he wielded such monstrous power these days.
Like some self-appointed deity passing judgment with a flick of his wrist.
This merciless, arrogant demigod bore only the barest fleeting resemblance to the brilliant yet tenderhearted boyfriend you once adored.
Since acquiring the Death Note's insidious abilities, your Light had steadily devolved into a twisted shell of his former self, driven by an all-consuming messiah complex.
You barely recognized him anymore - the Light you knew would've recoiled in horror over such wanton slaughter, dismissing the very notion as abhorrent. These days? He didn't so much as blink as person after person perished at his whim, swaths of human lives extinguished with infuriatingly casual indifference.
Swallowing thickly, you finally found your voice. Hesitant, yet brimming with desperation to reach whatever tattered remnants of the man you loved still lurked beneath Kira's pitiless exterior.
"Light?"
When those russet eyes flickered up towards you, glacial and utterly devoid of warmth, the words shriveled in your throat for an agonizing heartbeat.
Plunging onwards with a strained exhale, you barrelled through before your nerve could crumble entirely.
"Why don't you just...pass the notebook off to someone else?" Achingly wistful, you curled your arms across your midsection like a flimsy shield.
"You don't...you don't have to keep doing this yourself. We could go back to how things were before and-"
"Enough." Light cut you off with a curt growl, snapping the Death Note closed with a dull thud that made you flinch.
Abruptly he stood, stalking towards the bed with leonine grace yet stiff, clipped movements radiating frigid menace. Too late, you shrank from his imposing form looming over you now.
Face to face, scarcely inches apart, you could see the fanatical glint smoldering behind those impassive, handsome features.
A shudder slithered down your vertebrae under his unnerving scrutiny.
"I can't let this power slip into anyone else's hands."
The words emerged through gritted teeth, a muscle feathering along Light's taut jawline.
"I was chosen to become the God of this new world, to execute divine justice and establish true order with my own hands. No one else is worthy."
An errant tear slipped from the corner of your eye, tracing a glistening trail down your cheek in the tense standoff's wake. You tried valiantly to fortify your resolve, to not flinch away from the sheer gravity of that unnervingly cold, callous resolution etched into his very marrow.
But it was too much.
"Light, please..."
The words gurgled out in a desperate rasp, thick with anguished pleading and unshed tears.
"I love you, b-but I can't keep watching as you lose every shred of your humanity like this! If you won't give up that thing, then...then I have to go. I can't stay by and watch this anymore!"
At the achingly soft admission spilling through your wobbling lips, Light's expression didn't flicker for a protracted, agonizing heartbeat.
But then his mouth curled into the ghost of a smirk, utterly devoid of genuine mirth - just cruel, calculating self-assurance.
"Go ahead and try," he crooned with scathing disinterest, callused fingers seizing a rough fistful of your hair to forcibly tilt your face up towards his. Tears spilled freely now, sobs raking your trembling frame.
"You don't honestly think I'd let you walk away with everything you know about me still intact, do you?"
The icy finality behind those mocking words washed over you in a suffocating wave, stealing what little tenuous purchase on hope you still possessed.
You sagged, terror-fuelled adrenaline rapidly leaching away into numb hopelessness and misery.
Without ceremony, Light shoved you away with a scoff, leaving you sprawled across the mattress amidst your pitiful puddle of grief.
With a few perfunctory swipes of his sleeve across those chiseled features, he'd already vanished whatever fleeting glimpses of genuine emotion had flickered there just moments ago.
"You'll stay right here, powerless and silent as my humble concubine," the words emerged crisp, cold, and utterly inflexible as he returned to the Death Note splayed open in indifferent expectation.
"Embrace your purpose, devote yourself to watching over the birth of a new utopia...or perish like any other obstacle beneath my heel."
Through a fresh torrent of searing tears, you could only bring yourself to rasp out a pitiful whimper of surrender.
Beaten. Broken.
Any facade of control or dignity had long fled along with the better parts of Light's withering soul.
Beneath the weight of sickening realization settling like a shroud, darkness crept across your vision as the soft scratching of pen against paper resumed.
You were well and truly his hapless pawn now.
