[Despite his absolute best attempts, Crowley hadn't been able to stave off sleep. The pot of, now cold, coffee sitting on the table where he'd finally crumpled over.
The nightmares had been making it difficult to sleep as of late, so when he no longer had external stimulus to keep him awake, his face became well acquainted with the wooden table. Just as she hadn't wanted to be vulnerable in front of him, he didn't want to be so careless around her. Seems like his body had other plans.]
no subject
The nightmares had been making it difficult to sleep as of late, so when he no longer had external stimulus to keep him awake, his face became well acquainted with the wooden table. Just as she hadn't wanted to be vulnerable in front of him, he didn't want to be so careless around her. Seems like his body had other plans.]