Disclaimer: I don't own Death Note

With her feet propped up on the window ledge and her knees tucked close to her chest the young woman looked down on the quiet street below her hotel room window. Her dark blonde hair framed her face and her bangs fell over her cocoa colored eyes. It was late enough that all the bars and clubs had already closed for the night but too early in the morning for the people who had spent their nights in them to start heading to work. Only street cleaners and the occasional straggler could be seen below.

She listened to the shower running in bathroom and thought about the man who currently occupied it. She smiled to herself thinking of their interesting history. They had first met in the orphanage what seemed like ages ago. He was odd, even then. He always seemed to slouch when he stood up or in a hunched position with his knees to his chest, toes wiggling if sitting. Sumiko was almost afraid of him the first time she saw him. The boy was a couple years older than her; his black hair was unruly and his onyx eyes seemed so cold. But they both broke through that awkward first meeting to form a deep bond and understanding of each other. Some would argue that they no longer cared for each other only as friends; that they had fallen in love.

Love? Sumiko thought to herself. She wasn't sure you could call it that. Perhaps she loved him, but she doubted it was the other way around. It seemed that her role was satisfying his carnal desires, but she was all too happy to concede to his wishes. Closing her eyes the young woman took a deep breath. She could still smell the scent of their "lovemaking," in fact it filled the room. Anybody entering that space would know what had happened in there simply by the scent alone. Was that what he was doing in the shower? Washing off the scent of her and him together?

She walked over to the sheets on the bed and let her finger tips glide over their silky smoothness. His skin was like silk, and she loved to touch it. She stood there remembering what it felt like the first time. It had hurt her so much that she cried, but begged him not to stop even though he tried several times. She was sore for a week afterwards. It wasn't like that anymore. Sumiko willingly let him lay between her thighs; she craved for his body to be pushing against her own. He brought her so much physical pleasure, only to be followed by the emotional pain of him leaving again.

She picked up a strawberry that lay on the nightstand. She took a bite of it thinking about how his kisses always seemed to taste like strawberries, or anything sweet, but usually strawberries. Images of her tongue running up and down his neck and licking his sweet lips ran through her mind. Then she thought of his tongue, and all the ways he had tasted her the night before. She shivered with the thought of it all.

The shower turned off and she returned to her original position on the chair in front of the window; feet perched on the sill and knees to her chest. She refused to look at the man she loved. She refused to look at the man she didn't want to see walk out of the door once again.

She heard him step out of the bathroom. From his reflection on the window she could see that he wore his usual over-sized shirt and baggy jeans. She could smell the aloe soap he had used to cleanse himself of their deed. Then she felt him touch her shoulder and she leaned her head back so that he could kiss her. He tasted like strawberries.

"You know I have to go, it's important." He said in his flat tone of voice.

"Yes, Lawliet. I know." She said back, just as monotonous.

"You know why you can't come?" He questioned.

"You don't want me to be a distraction?" She questioned right back.

"If Kira ever finds out that you're connected to me in an intimate way, he'll kill you. I can't let that happen." His voice raising only the slightest.

The girl nodded her head.

"Then go. Find Kira and bring justice to the world, Lawliet. It's what you do best."

It was then that she watched him walk out of the door. It was then that she felt the true bitter feeling of lonlinees. It was then that she realized she would never taste his sweet kisses or smell his sweet scent.

And neither of them would hear the other say, "I love you," from the other side of the closed door.