Angel groans into the pillow, leaning until he's flopped lengthwise on her bed (but consciously keeps his feet over the side, since he's still wearing his shoes), all the while keeping the pillow pressed to his face. "I shouldn't be allowed to speak, nothing good ever comes from it," he says, his words muffled through the pillow, but still pitched just loud enough she should be able to make them out.
She doesn't seem... too horrified, though, so Angel cautiously lifts the corner of the pillow to peek at her. "No, this is part of my regular sense of humor. It's just the tasteless part, so I try not to show it."
He watches her settle in to study, slowly shifting the pillow around until it's under his head instead of over it. Toeing off his shoes, he shifts until he's laying on his side, one arm tucked under the pillow and the other tucked against his chest and hand tucked under his chin.
There's something peaceful about... just watching her. Which has always been worrying to him, since happy, content, and bliss all have slightly different connotations, and contentment is something he always feels around her, especially in the quiet moments like this. Sometimes he thinks the only thing keeping his soul where it is, is knowing that he could lose it at any second. It's a dangerous way to live, and another reason he felt he had to leave her.
format change, bc I do what I want
Angel groans into the pillow, leaning until he's flopped lengthwise on her bed (but consciously keeps his feet over the side, since he's still wearing his shoes), all the while keeping the pillow pressed to his face. "I shouldn't be allowed to speak, nothing good ever comes from it," he says, his words muffled through the pillow, but still pitched just loud enough she should be able to make them out.
She doesn't seem... too horrified, though, so Angel cautiously lifts the corner of the pillow to peek at her. "No, this is part of my regular sense of humor. It's just the tasteless part, so I try not to show it."
He watches her settle in to study, slowly shifting the pillow around until it's under his head instead of over it. Toeing off his shoes, he shifts until he's laying on his side, one arm tucked under the pillow and the other tucked against his chest and hand tucked under his chin.
There's something peaceful about... just watching her. Which has always been worrying to him, since happy, content, and bliss all have slightly different connotations, and contentment is something he always feels around her, especially in the quiet moments like this. Sometimes he thinks the only thing keeping his soul where it is, is knowing that he could lose it at any second. It's a dangerous way to live, and another reason he felt he had to leave her.