Six thousand years, a good few centuries since he first had to face how he felt. Six thousand years, and only ever one person who could relate, even though they shouldn't see each other.
Six thousand years of conversations, drinks, lunches, dinners, late night talks in the back of bookshop, arguments, silences, rescues, surviving and living.
Six thousand years and almost losing it all, almost losing each other, but making it through, together.
Six thousand years and he thinks he's ready to meet him there.
He closes his eyes, and he can't tell what music is playing. He doesn't know modern music, he can't tell how close the singer is to being accurate. His hand is still on Crowley's shoulder, the other still on his arm. There's still a nagging feeling at the back of his head, telling him he shouldn't, telling him he should go, but, frankly, he doesn't feel like listening to it now.
The whole world blacks out into silence for a few seconds that feel like delightful hours. When he does pull back, he does so just barely, gently, opening his eyes to look at him, no words to be found.
This is all they should have said. Figures it happens in the most innocuous of places.
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timeasmymeasure
no subject
Date: 2019-08-09 05:22 pm (UTC)Six thousand years, a good few centuries since he first had to face how he felt. Six thousand years, and only ever one person who could relate, even though they shouldn't see each other.
Six thousand years of conversations, drinks, lunches, dinners, late night talks in the back of bookshop, arguments, silences, rescues, surviving and living.
Six thousand years and almost losing it all, almost losing each other, but making it through, together.
Six thousand years and he thinks he's ready to meet him there.
He closes his eyes, and he can't tell what music is playing. He doesn't know modern music, he can't tell how close the singer is to being accurate. His hand is still on Crowley's shoulder, the other still on his arm. There's still a nagging feeling at the back of his head, telling him he shouldn't, telling him he should go, but, frankly, he doesn't feel like listening to it now.
The whole world blacks out into silence for a few seconds that feel like delightful hours. When he does pull back, he does so just barely, gently, opening his eyes to look at him, no words to be found.
This is all they should have said. Figures it happens in the most innocuous of places.