He knows her lipstick must be all over his mouth, soft red smudges betraying him completely, and the very thought turns his smile dreamy as she pulls back. In this moment he’d absolutely relish running into any of his old coworkers—let the whole world see that the sweetest reddest mouth in all of Creation is his to kiss. He’ll wear any mark she leaves on him, proudly, as evidence that he has in fact pulled off the greatest miracle of all time in earning the love of such a beautiful complicated soul.
Her question, though, that brings a quiet laugh bubbling up through his chest. The thought of Crowley, of all people, forgetting something of significance to the two of them is a little absurd.
“I thought,” he murmurs, feathering a kiss at the edge of her mouth, basking in the very nearness of that molten-gold look he adores, “we might create one. Stake a claim on some otherwise unremarkable day of the year for ourselves. Plan holidays around it, and the like...”
It’s not a very long ride from the bookshop to the Ritz, though, and he finds himself interrupted by a somewhat awkward cough from the front seat—accompanied by the realization that the car has stopped moving.
Which is probably a good thing, since he’s very tempted to do things that even demons probably shouldn’t get up to in a cab[1]. However, more than once he’s noticed her gaze flick towards the direction of the cloakroom when she thinks he’s not paying attention, which is a tempting thought all its own.
“Ah. This would be us, then. After you, my dearest.”
[1] Though this is mostly because the lack of space limits one’s options severely.
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timeasmymeasure
WOOOO VACATION https://youtu.be/ek37VBGPVhg
Date: 2019-12-06 10:08 pm (UTC)Her question, though, that brings a quiet laugh bubbling up through his chest. The thought of Crowley, of all people, forgetting something of significance to the two of them is a little absurd.
“I thought,” he murmurs, feathering a kiss at the edge of her mouth, basking in the very nearness of that molten-gold look he adores, “we might create one. Stake a claim on some otherwise unremarkable day of the year for ourselves. Plan holidays around it, and the like...”
It’s not a very long ride from the bookshop to the Ritz, though, and he finds himself interrupted by a somewhat awkward cough from the front seat—accompanied by the realization that the car has stopped moving.
Which is probably a good thing, since he’s very tempted to do things that even demons probably shouldn’t get up to in a cab[1]. However, more than once he’s noticed her gaze flick towards the direction of the cloakroom when she thinks he’s not paying attention, which is a tempting thought all its own.
“Ah. This would be us, then. After you, my dearest.”
[1] Though this is mostly because the lack of space limits one’s options severely.