Bittersweet Symphony
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A human shellsuit? No. You are a parasite within Jimmy's body, and you are eating through his skin. Destiel.
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It freaks him out when you watch him sleep, and yet here you are again - entranced by the rise and fall of his chest and resisting the urge to invade his dreams. You wonder if he is dreaming of hell. You wonder, quite selfishly, if he is dreaming of you.
The thought makes your borrowed heart thump against your borrowed chest. It is not so much a drum as a bittersweet symphony; breaking you from the inside out. You have saved him - this righteous man - so that he might die; die for a cause you are still desperate to believe in. You wear this skin, but you do not feel human.
Jimmy is asleep, trapped somewhere within you: you know the reactions of this body are yours and yours alone. Your breathing has now stilled to match his and you find yourself moving closer to share his air. Breathing. This body needs to breathe and it is frightening to you. It does not need to eat, it does not need to sleep and yet, as you watch him, his breath against your lips, you wish it did.
Want. This too is unfamiliar to you - this range of emotions so unlike your own. Fear which brings on cold sweats, jealousy which leaves the stench of sickness and, yes, even lust. Lust which makes you hot in your trenchcoat and tight in your pants. Your body, your vessel, your borrowed transport - it is still not under your control and Dean, Dean alone is the reason.
This human. This so-much-more-complicated-than-he-looks human being is causing you to crumble: to flirt with humanity itself and leave your Grace in the balance. Your breath quickens again. He is waking from sleep and you are still to move away from him.
Love you understand - you were created from it - but this overwhelming want; this you are still getting used to. You whisper his name with the sincerity of a prayer and he wakes to the sound of your wings as you leave him.
And you can't see him, but he smiles.
