The demon was cold as the sweat evaporated from his exposed back, and it made him unusually drowsy. The only sensation he was aware of was where his skin touched Aziraphale's and he curled closer to him, already missing the warmth of their conjoined bodies. Fuzzily, he conjured another blanket to lay under. In his exhaustion and absent-mindedly sated state, it was tartan.
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timeasmymeasure
no subject
Date: 2006-09-26 06:55 am (UTC)