One could say he already has been watching over the angel. And, history would confirm, they would be right.
He feels the concern. He accepts it, and, for how much the current buzzing of emotions and feelings and expectations and longing all swirls around in his head, he remembers how deeply tired he is. He remembers the pain on his chest - a physical one, that, which is oddly lingering. And he gently steps back to reality, but just barely, just enough to remember where they are, and how they got there.
He pulls back silently, lingering for a moment before he opens his eyes slightly. Theres a solemn expression in his face, perhaps thoughtful, perhaps distracted, but calm, for the most part. He’s still so close and he’s giving himself a chance to look at Crowley from this new point of view. To bring up a hand to cup his cheek and gently brush his thumb over it. To consider him, closer than they’ve ever been.
Maybe he’s not ready to say it, yet. But he’s better at showing it.
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He feels the concern. He accepts it, and, for how much the current buzzing of emotions and feelings and expectations and longing all swirls around in his head, he remembers how deeply tired he is. He remembers the pain on his chest - a physical one, that, which is oddly lingering. And he gently steps back to reality, but just barely, just enough to remember where they are, and how they got there.
He pulls back silently, lingering for a moment before he opens his eyes slightly. Theres a solemn expression in his face, perhaps thoughtful, perhaps distracted, but calm, for the most part. He’s still so close and he’s giving himself a chance to look at Crowley from this new point of view. To bring up a hand to cup his cheek and gently brush his thumb over it. To consider him, closer than they’ve ever been.
Maybe he’s not ready to say it, yet. But he’s better at showing it.