Love On The Rocks

Chapter 5: Cosmopolitan

The sound of a car engine running. Warmth. A weight. And a head-wrenching migraine. These were all the first things that caught my attention when I came to my senses.

Very slowly and without a sound, I opened my eyes with slight pain, only to be faced with darkness: I began to look around me without moving my head, but could not make out where I was exactly. Until I took into account the very first sound I had heard when I woke up.

I'm... in a car...?

And indeed, I was. I looked around me once more, this time with the knowledge of where I was, yet I was still not able to discern quite well what the shapes in front of me represented. And this was when I understood. This warmth, this sense of comfort, that I had been feeling since before I had even opened my eyes. It came from someone else; more precisely, from someone else's lap. Indeed, only then did I feel a certain support below my head, which made me realize it was comfortably resting on the legs of somebody and that I was lying down on my side, on what I assumed to be the backseat. My body, on top of which was laid a weight. Not a heavy, painful weight, but a soft and pleasant one. A coat, big and warm.

"Is she still out?"

A whispered voice was suddenly heard from the passenger seat, which pulled me out of my thoughts; then, I heard a faint sigh from just above my head.

"... Yes."

The voice was deep, soft, and calm: I opened my eyes wider in realization as all my thoughts came to connect with each other. I was lying down on Crowley, my head on his lap, and his coat covering my body. The moment I registered these facts, I instantly felt my body heat up and spread this heat all the way up to my face. I could not help but feel extremely shy, and a part of me desperately wanted to move, to hide away under his coat, but my body hurt too much for me to be able to move a single muscle; so, I remained immobile, his legs feeling heavier and heavier to me with every second passing as my cheeks burned up.

"... Well, she needs rest anyway, so it's for the best."

Once again, the voice of the man sitting in the passenger seat resonated throughout the car, but this time it was followed by some rustling sounds. The voice sounded even closer to me than it had done before and was full of reassurance.

"She's gonna be fine, don't worry Crowley."

"I'm not worried." He quickly replied in a voice that expressed no feelings.

"'Course you are." Yet another unfamiliar voice suddenly said with a playful tease.

Silence followed the words of the manly voice, which sounded as though it had come from the driver's seat, until it let out a low chuckle.

"You're worried for your little sweetheart, how adorable."

"Dean!" The man riding shotgun exclaimed while he tried to remain quiet, presumably addressing the driver.

I found myself even shyer as I lowered my gaze: whoever these two men in the car were, they knew Crowley, well enough to know about the two of us. Well enough to read through his words and behavior to be able to tell he had feelings for me. I struggled to remain silent at this sheer thought but nonetheless managed to simply close my eyes tight and gulp instead: I knew well it was wrong of me to pretend to still be asleep so that I could eavesdrop on the conversation going down in the car, but my curiosity was too strong, and I wanted to know what they all had to say about me, about him, about us.

Crowley was still silent, he still had not replied to the provocation the man named 'Dean' had thrown at him; but what I could hear from him was his breath, heavy and deep, and it soothed me into a sense of comfort, of security, which made me keep my eyes closed.