𝕮𝖗𝖔𝖜𝖑𝖊𝖞

Those little touches, tentative, careful. So much happening in one night, barely a blink of an eye to them, and still feels so fast. Too fast. But he’s trying to keep up, this time. He’s done waiting, and he’s done staying behind.

He wishes he could bring peace to the demon’s mind. Not that his own is quite that different, but he still wishes he could make it better.

“My dear.” He’d rest his other hand over Crowley’s, if it wasn’t otherwise occupied with the glass. “I don’t think that’s quite in our hands.” And it’s wrong, he thinks. That either of them still have to run. But, right now, right here, he feels...fine. He feels...happy.

“But as long as we have each other...Perhaps everything will be fine.”