His True Colors

[Brielle's POV]

When the handsome man with the kind face and hypnotizing gray eyes that were shrouded by long lashes sat beside me, I didn't expect to be so enticed. However, something about him felt so familiar. Maybe that was why I couldn't take my eyes off him as he taught that disgusting drunk a lesson. It was like I was in a trance, and all I could see was him, despite everything going on around me.

But now I couldn't help being transfixed because of his voice. Why did it sound so similar to L's? There was no way it was him. It couldn't be, not after four years of staying away. He wouldn't just show up out of nowhere, or was he following me all the time? Just the thought of him always being near but never close enough left a thrum of excitement racing through me.

“Hello… Earth to Brielle.” Anastasia's annoyed voice calls as I continue to stare at the man's retreating back. “Girl, snap out of it!”

Snap out of it. Right. I needed to snap out of it. There was no way he could be L. I clearly so desperately wanted to see him that I was mistaking another for him.

“Are you listening?” She continues.

“Yeah,” I respond while getting up from my seat. “I am.”

“Hey!” She gasps as I begin to move, heading in the direction that the man went. “Where are you going?”

Where was I going? I was chasing after that damned man because I couldn't quite convince myself he wasn't L. Even if the chances were slim and I would be making a fool of myself, I had to find out. I would just ask him his name. There was nothing wrong with that.

Right. Just a name. It was just a name. A name.

“Fuck!”

The word rings out from the small alley beside the club, and it is followed by the sound of a trash can crashing to the ground.

“You fucking prick! I'll kill you!”

Eyes widening, I realize immediately that there is a fight going on, and if I were smart, I would turn around and not go near it.

“You can try.”

The strong voice, accompanied by a deep rumble of a laugh, drifts toward me, beckoning me forward even though I know it is a bad idea. But I guess I was addicted to bad ideas; my obsession with teasing a complete stranger was proof of that.

Pushing aside my fear, I move until I can peek around the corner of the building just in time to see one of the drunkards that tried to hit on Anastasia and I move forward while swinging a knife.

Eyes widening, I watch as he attempts to cut the man who helped us. That's when the man moves, grabbing the drunkard's wrist and twisting, so a sickening crack sounds and the knife drops. But he isn't done; he pulls, slamming his head directly against the drunkard's nose, breaking it cleanly before letting go.

“You bastard!” The drunkard's friend snarls, rushing forward only to be grabbed by the throat and thrown down.

As he hits the ground, the man presses his foot against the man's throat and applies pressure.

“Tell me how you wish to die,” he growls in that voice, which is so similar to L's. “Quick and painless, or slow and painful.”

The words are something like what a gangster would say, and I would consider it a bluff if it weren't for the look of promise on the man's face and the need to kill that shone brightly in his eyes.

Shit. He was being serious. He was really going to kill those two, and I was standing here just watching.

Understanding how dangerous the situation was, I turn and attempt to run, but find myself crashing into a man in a suit with exhaustion etched on his face.

“Oh!” I gasp, watching his briefcase crash to the ground. “Shit! I'm sorry, leg me…”

“Watch where you're going, bitch!” He growls, shoving me away so that I lose my footing.

“Ah!”

Bracing myself, I wait for my ass to connect with the hard concrete below, but it never comes. Instead, strong, warm arms wrap around me while my back collides with a firm and broad chest. And even though I should have been thankful I didn't get hurt, all I felt was fear.

Slowly, I begin to lift my head so I can stare directly into the gray depths of the one who stopped me from falling and who most likely knew I saw what he was doing with those drunkards.

“Don't you know spying is bad, little one?” He husks low enough so that only I hear. “That's how people go missing.”

Shock rolls through me, followed by fear so strong that it makes my heart race. Oh no, he knew I was watching. Was he going to do something to me even though I really didn't see anything?

“I….” I whimper, trying to keep from hyperventilating. “I didn't see anything!”

Shit! Saying you didn't see something means you did! What the hell was I thinking?

“No,” he chuckles with that damned voice that sounded like L and made me instantly begin to relax, even though I knew I was in deep shit. “Are you sure about that? Then why are you acting so afraid of me?”

As he speaks, he tightens his hold on me, pulling me even closer before grabbing my chin and tilting my head so that I can't look away.

“Don't worry,” he continues, running his thumb along my bottom lip. “I'm not in the habit of making beautiful women scream and wish they were dead. Well, not in a bad way.”

At his words, I feel something stir in me. Was I actually starting to get turned on by a random stranger who may or may not be a killer? Yes. The answer was yes. I was growing wet with anticipation.

“That's a good girl,” he murmurs, giving a seductive smile. “Now, why don't you go back into the club and pretend you didn't see anything?”

It was a simple command, and I could do it, but I wanted to be with this man more. But the more I wanted to stay with him, the more guilty I felt toward L.

“B-but…” I whisper, not wanting this moment to end. “I…”

“Don't be disobedient,” he warns, his eyes flashing. “Go back in.”

With that, he shoves me away so that I snap out of my daze.

"Sorry, I can't give you what you're wanting,” he chuckles, pulling a cigarette from behind his ear that was covered by his shaggy, dark hair and lighting it. “But if we meet again, I'll consider it.”

With that, he turns and begins to move while I stand in the middle of the street, wondering what the fuck just happened.