L had never been much for hugging, but he'd become simultaneously more spiny and more accommodating lately when it came to physical contact. On his bad days, he flinched away from it and lashed out when it was offered, but on his (relatively) good days, he tolerated it, and even sometimes seemed to be comforted by it.

Along with the reassurance that Bakura understood, or at least tried to.

"You don't think you can make him come here?" He asked in a small voice. "What if I was dying? You'd tell him?"