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Summary
“What about us?” He knows he probably shouldn't ask such a leading question, but his mind has always been dangerously curious.
“Why you let me carry on talking when you knew I was trying to call Misa. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you enjoy the sound of my voice."
L’s response comes quickly, defensive. "You’re flattering yourself, Light." But there's a tiny crack in his resolve, just wide enough that Light can pry his fingers into and pull out the lie. And oh doesn’t he take advantage of that, his voice coy when he responds to L.
"I could make you enjoy my voice a lot more, you know. If you let me.” It's the alcohol talking. And the bravado of the space and distance between them– nothing but a million particles in space bouncing off one another connecting their call.