This is my first attempt at a Destiel fic and only my second attempt at a songfic (the first being an epic fail) so constructive criticisms would be nice, but don't be too harsh!
Disclaimer: I don't own these beautiful boys = ( or the song, which is 'I'm Yours' by The Script.

I'm Yours: A Destiel Fic

You touch these tired eyes of mine,

You map my face out line by line,

And somehow growing old seems fine.

He touches the lids of your eyes softly – he thinks you're asleep. You should be asleep. You're so tired. You've had such a long day and your wounds ache and throb, but you can't fall asleep. Not when he's so close to you. Not when he's so near. He makes you feel better. He makes everything better. Even your dead-end-nowhere-to-go-except-back-downstairs life.

I listen close, for I'm not smart

You wrap your thoughts and works of art,

And they're hanging on the walls of my heart.

He speaks, and you listen. You strain your ears for the velvet sound of his voice, wishing you could turn your head slightly, just so they wouldn't be muffled by the pillows, but you can't move. Not when he's so close to you. Not when he's so near. So you listen to the sweet nothings he whispers to your seemingly unconscious form. You listen to the sounds, memorise the words. Engrave them on your soul.

I may not have the softest touch,

I may not say the words as such,

And though I may not look like much,

I'm yours.

And though my edges may be rough,

I never feel I'm quite enough,

It may not seem like very much,

But I'm yours.

You wish. You wish so hard that you were brave. That you were brave enough to say those little words to him. That you could tell him how you feel without fear. You pray. You pray so hard that you were more. That you were better. So that you didn't have to feel out of place next to him. You pray that you could be good enough for him. But you don't think that God hears.

You healed these scars over time,

Embraced my soul you loved my mind,

You're the only angel in my life.

His wandering hands move down your body, tracing over all the places you've ever been hurt. They trace every inch of your precious skin and you feel tears prick your eyes at the tenderness behind his touch. And you know that he healed you. Not only did he grip you tight and raise you from perdition, but he fixed everything that was ever wrong with you. But even now, when you're perfect, you're still not good enough.

The day news came, my best friend died,

My knees went weak, and you saw me cry,

Say I'm still the soldier in your eyes.

The tears in your eyes force you to remember. To remember the last time that you cried. When … Sammy. You feel the tears escape from your eyelids and you hope he hasn't noticed them. Because then he'll think you're weak. You're sure that he already does. How can he think you to be strong after he saw you lose control that way? He saw you lose everything that you'd ever had. He saw you lose yourself. He saw you lose Sammy.

I may not have the softest touch,

I may not say the words as such,

And though I may not look like much,

I'm yours.

And though my edges may be rough,

I never feel I'm quite enough,

It may not seem like very much,

But I'm yours.

Still, you wish. You wish so hard that you were brave. That you were brave enough to say those little words to him. That you could tell him how you feel without fear. You pray. You pray so hard that you were more. That you were better. So that you didn't have to feel out of place next to him. You pray that you could be good enough for him. But you don't think that God hears.

I may not have the softest touch,

I may not say the words as such,

And though I don't fit in that much,

I'm yours.

Reviews are love!

xx