[The impact of the word is almost physical. He draws in a breath, sitting up a little further, shoulders hunched with sudden tension. Still looking down, his head shaking back and forth is what is at first denial of the words he'd just hurt, then at the fact that Crowley had dared to say them, then frustration at himself for pushing this into existence from his own selfish fear. He knows just as well as the demon what acknowledging those feelings can lead to. Paradisa only reiterated something seared into his heart since he was a child, watching his friends drown in the Sim. Watching Jolene gasp her last breaths in the street. It was like love safer hidden away where nobody could see it, hurt it, or take it away. It's too much. Every frenzied word he has piles together on the way out and sticks together somewhere in the vicinity of his chest. The only sound that comes out, at first, is a strangled whine.
But he created this. He might have even wanted this, despite the pain. Because of the pain, maybe. Running away is always an option, and while it seems like half of him is ready to do just that - to get out of this room and go back to feigned, blissful ignorance - he doesn't. He holds on, his leg winding tighter around Crowley's as if afraid he might disappear at that very moment.]
Crowley...[It's the only thing he can reach right now, because he doesn't know what he can say. He doesn't know yet if he can return the favor but the truth that the demon is working on occurs to him too - he'd stayed his tongue so many times and even then he'd lost them. He still wasn't convinced that to say it wasn't to draw the ire of fate, but what about all the times he'd been left with regret? Was that worth the gamble?
All he can do to answer was to lean back down for a kiss. It's simple - just the simple pressure of lips without lust. Connection. The only need is the one to assure Crowley that he's been heard and that the only person he's angry at is himself. It's impossible, now, to hide the fact that he's crying, though he still manages that in relative silence. Another hard-won skill from his old life.]
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But he created this. He might have even wanted this, despite the pain. Because of the pain, maybe. Running away is always an option, and while it seems like half of him is ready to do just that - to get out of this room and go back to feigned, blissful ignorance - he doesn't. He holds on, his leg winding tighter around Crowley's as if afraid he might disappear at that very moment.]
Crowley...[It's the only thing he can reach right now, because he doesn't know what he can say. He doesn't know yet if he can return the favor but the truth that the demon is working on occurs to him too - he'd stayed his tongue so many times and even then he'd lost them. He still wasn't convinced that to say it wasn't to draw the ire of fate, but what about all the times he'd been left with regret? Was that worth the gamble?
All he can do to answer was to lean back down for a kiss. It's simple - just the simple pressure of lips without lust. Connection. The only need is the one to assure Crowley that he's been heard and that the only person he's angry at is himself. It's impossible, now, to hide the fact that he's crying, though he still manages that in relative silence. Another hard-won skill from his old life.]