[He won't mention all the times he put pen to paper, scribbling out a few lines in the style of his favorite authors, scratching and tossing each one because they hit too close to home to feelings that he needed to keep locked up tight. It's too sad a thought, now that he has Crowley here, warm and vibrant with his arms around his waist, and besides, Neruda says it better than he ever could.
Crowley seems to be enjoying the poem, too, a lot more than the angel could have predicted. His breath catches at the demon's reply and he sets the book aside so that he can hold onto Crowley's hand with both of his.]
Oh... well, I certainly wouldn't be opposed to that...
[He brings Crowley's hand to his mouth once more, sucking on the tips of his fingers as if they're already covered in chocolate.]
Sauce or not, you're the most delicious thing I've ever tasted.
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[He won't mention all the times he put pen to paper, scribbling out a few lines in the style of his favorite authors, scratching and tossing each one because they hit too close to home to feelings that he needed to keep locked up tight. It's too sad a thought, now that he has Crowley here, warm and vibrant with his arms around his waist, and besides, Neruda says it better than he ever could.
Crowley seems to be enjoying the poem, too, a lot more than the angel could have predicted. His breath catches at the demon's reply and he sets the book aside so that he can hold onto Crowley's hand with both of his.]
Oh... well, I certainly wouldn't be opposed to that...
[He brings Crowley's hand to his mouth once more, sucking on the tips of his fingers as if they're already covered in chocolate.]
Sauce or not, you're the most delicious thing I've ever tasted.