*There's not really any way Cesar can be out of reach, and he's racing through the search in hopes of ending this quickly. He jerks open the drawer with the pills, and then pushes it back closed, finding nothing of use--and then he yanks it back open again halfway through reaching for another drawer, snatching the bottle up.*
*Xanax. Xanax. Cesar's grip on the bottle turns temporarily white-knuckled, and he looks at L on the bed, seeing half-open eyes and that stirring that's not quite coordinated enough to actually be wakeful. Cesar shakes the bottle at the L in his arms, like someone showing a puppy a chewed up shoe--and what, did he expect an apology? He throws the bottle back in the drawer in disgust, gritting his teeth. The sign for 'asshole' is one-handed. Cesar makes use of this fact before switching arms, glancing through the desk's other side's drawers.*
*He finds nothing in the desk that will hold another human being captive. He's alone, with one man that needs protecting and another that's making his skin crawl. What's he going to do?*
*The silence spirals in on itself, and he's completely at a loss. Will he just stand there and hold L's copy until the real one wakes up? Will he tie him up in a blanket, hoping it doesn't just turn into one frustrating game of retying the knots every time the man works himself free--*
*Cesar's gaze sharpens on L, and his mind works through the sight of him very, very carefully. L can't move. L is... out of the picture... He moves back to the desk and pulls that bottom drawer open again, taking out the bottle. Now he actually looks at it, pouring over the label. L's doppelganger is kept in place with one hand between his shoulder blades; he hasn't needed to actually add his weight, yet, and is hoping he won't have to.*
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[Action]
Date: 2015-04-03 07:47 am (UTC)*Xanax. Xanax. Cesar's grip on the bottle turns temporarily white-knuckled, and he looks at L on the bed, seeing half-open eyes and that stirring that's not quite coordinated enough to actually be wakeful. Cesar shakes the bottle at the L in his arms, like someone showing a puppy a chewed up shoe--and what, did he expect an apology? He throws the bottle back in the drawer in disgust, gritting his teeth. The sign for 'asshole' is one-handed. Cesar makes use of this fact before switching arms, glancing through the desk's other side's drawers.*
*He finds nothing in the desk that will hold another human being captive. He's alone, with one man that needs protecting and another that's making his skin crawl. What's he going to do?*
*The silence spirals in on itself, and he's completely at a loss. Will he just stand there and hold L's copy until the real one wakes up? Will he tie him up in a blanket, hoping it doesn't just turn into one frustrating game of retying the knots every time the man works himself free--*
*Cesar's gaze sharpens on L, and his mind works through the sight of him very, very carefully. L can't move. L is... out of the picture... He moves back to the desk and pulls that bottom drawer open again, taking out the bottle. Now he actually looks at it, pouring over the label. L's doppelganger is kept in place with one hand between his shoulder blades; he hasn't needed to actually add his weight, yet, and is hoping he won't have to.*