His memory of this bit from before is something of a blur. All circuits were already overloaded, as it were, so now he's forced to improvise a little. He keeps the hand below the join moving smoothly and buries the other back into the larger feathers where he can tug a little without fear of pulling too hard.
He's never seen Crowley quite like this, spread like an open book beneath his hands, fragile pages and delicate spine exposed and perfect. Every movement is so, so careful. The constant, soft roar of the surf outside makes for a surreal counterpoint to his voice as he whispers something inaudible into Crowley's back, and the breath of air just skims over the top of the join.
It's an awkward angle, but he watches closely what little he can see of the demon's face.
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timeasmymeasure
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Date: 2009-01-01 09:43 pm (UTC)He's never seen Crowley quite like this, spread like an open book beneath his hands, fragile pages and delicate spine exposed and perfect. Every movement is so, so careful. The constant, soft roar of the surf outside makes for a surreal counterpoint to his voice as he whispers something inaudible into Crowley's back, and the breath of air just skims over the top of the join.
It's an awkward angle, but he watches closely what little he can see of the demon's face.