Meg (meganmasters) wrote in oakdelllogs, @ 2013-06-02 01:34:00 |
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Meg eyed her reflection in the glass door of the hotel complex. She had a lovely new bruise across one cheek that she was sure Castiel was just going to love. At least she wasn't nearly as beaten up as the last time she'd shown up at his door. Still, he'd worry. She knew he'd fuss over her, and her skin crawled at the idea. She hadn't even wanted to come back so quickly. After their last encounter, she desperately needed time to think, but try explaining that to him. He'd aired his personal business all over the net for no other reason than he'd had no one to talk to, and that was entirely her fault. She'd confused him, left him, and had no right to be surprised that he had floundered. She pushed her way into the building and strode into the elevator, her thoughts troubled. She still didn't know why she'd kissed him like she had. Their interactions had always had only one potential outcome, and she'd known that. Now that he was human, that made anything beyond what they already had completely impossible. She'd wanted nothing more than to tumble him and move on, yet she'd never quite made it to that part of things. Instead, she'd taken care of him, cooked for him, pretended, just for a little while, that they weren't what they were. That they were just human. But they weren't. His body might have been mortal now, but it didn't change the fact that in his heart, he was an Angel, and she was a Demon. There couldn't be anything between them, and the longer she lied to herself about that, the harder it would be for her to walk away. Her feelings, so hard to identify, were pointless, and best left buried. So why had she come back? Why, after years of being alone, had she suddenly started to feel lonely? Approaching his door, she shifted the bag she carried from hand to hand. She'd promised to bring him a burger and she had. She was mildly conscious of keeping an eye on his eating habits. He probably wouldn't know much about moderation or eating healthy and, really, neither did she. But this was one of the few things he'd actually claimed to like, and damned if she was steadily bending under the force of those ridiculous puppy eyes he kept shooting her. He was even worse than Sam. Inexplicably frustrated and, consequently, a bit crabby, she knocked on his door. |