The angel is, in point of fact, not asleep, but somewhere in that twilight stage between wakefulness and slumber. The place where wandering thoughts tumble their way into dreams, or even heavier sleep, one undisturbed by any sort of thoughts at all.
He remains in that precarious balance, even when Crowley comes over to look at him. The demon's aura is like a warm blanket, wrapping itself around him and shielding him from the chill of the waking world, and in that comforting cocoon of warmth, he sinks further into sleep.
Who knows how the dream begins. No one ever remembers how a dream begins, anyway, the angel simply finds himself close to the ocean, breathing in the salt air. He's wearing a scarf, but it's so heavy. He reaches up to adjust it, but is distracted instead by the garden he is standing in, lush and verdant. Like Eden, if Eden were a little more cultivated and a lot less tropical.
It's lovely. Peaceful. And Crowley is somewhere close by, which makes it perfect. Even the oddly heavy scarf draped around his neck is perfect.
The dream fades out and he wakes. He blinks blearily in confusion -- what happened to the ocean? Oh, but he still has on that scarf, but when he reaches up lazily with one hand to touch it, he finds scales instead of fabric. He peers awkwardly at the snake wrapped around his shoulders. It's been ages since he's seen Crowley's snake form, but he recognizes it immediately, even if it is quite a bit smaller. With a tender smile, he gently strokes the back of Crowley's serpentine head, down along his reticulated spine, marveling at its softness and beauty. Looks like it wasn't merely the demon's aura that had lured him into a dream-state.
I love it. <3
He remains in that precarious balance, even when Crowley comes over to look at him. The demon's aura is like a warm blanket, wrapping itself around him and shielding him from the chill of the waking world, and in that comforting cocoon of warmth, he sinks further into sleep.
Who knows how the dream begins. No one ever remembers how a dream begins, anyway, the angel simply finds himself close to the ocean, breathing in the salt air. He's wearing a scarf, but it's so heavy. He reaches up to adjust it, but is distracted instead by the garden he is standing in, lush and verdant. Like Eden, if Eden were a little more cultivated and a lot less tropical.
It's lovely. Peaceful. And Crowley is somewhere close by, which makes it perfect. Even the oddly heavy scarf draped around his neck is perfect.
The dream fades out and he wakes. He blinks blearily in confusion -- what happened to the ocean? Oh, but he still has on that scarf, but when he reaches up lazily with one hand to touch it, he finds scales instead of fabric. He peers awkwardly at the snake wrapped around his shoulders. It's been ages since he's seen Crowley's snake form, but he recognizes it immediately, even if it is quite a bit smaller. With a tender smile, he gently strokes the back of Crowley's serpentine head, down along his reticulated spine, marveling at its softness and beauty. Looks like it wasn't merely the demon's aura that had lured him into a dream-state.