[His voice is soft, the threat of tears gone now that he's focused on whatever's going on with Aziraphale. He strokes his hand through his hair, slow, soothing movements, knowing that it'll mess up his curls and not caring. He doubts Aziraphale cares, either.
He considers letting them sit in silence, but it feels like too much of a fraught silence, like there's still things they need to discuss.]
Sometimes I wish I could read your mind. Save the trouble of anything getting lost in translation.
[And to stop him from clamming up the way he does sometimes.]
no subject
[His voice is soft, the threat of tears gone now that he's focused on whatever's going on with Aziraphale. He strokes his hand through his hair, slow, soothing movements, knowing that it'll mess up his curls and not caring. He doubts Aziraphale cares, either.
He considers letting them sit in silence, but it feels like too much of a fraught silence, like there's still things they need to discuss.]
Sometimes I wish I could read your mind. Save the trouble of anything getting lost in translation.
[And to stop him from clamming up the way he does sometimes.]