She was usually so much more sure of herself, so deliberate in her speech. The fact that she's reduced to a hesitant, stuttering mess is frustrating since she actually feels like an open book for once in her life and can't find the words to express everything going on in her mind.
It was true that she'd been through awful things. Centuries of every kind of torture imaginable, and you better believe she could dish it out as well as she could take it. Still, somehow, the last year Meg had spent as Crowley's personal plaything had been worse than all the rest. It had been personal.
The memories of it even bothered her from time to time as a demon - but this was the second time now that Paradisa had forced her to re-live the trauma through the mind's eye of a fragile human soul. She had really hoped this wouldn't be a regular thing... but she supposed that was the real catch to this place for her, personally.
She leaned into his touch again, closing her eyes momentarily and coming back to herself, trying to focus on the warmth of his fingers and the way even such a slight touch sent a pleasant shiver down her spine. It relaxed her enough to explain the worst aspect of it.
"You remember when Crowley busted in on all of us at that cabin in the woods before we went to gank that bottom feeding piece of crap from purgatory? Yeah... he kinda picked up on... well... us... " She drew a shaky breath, "He realized how much I care about you, and let's just say he took that one and ran with it."
She gave an almost apologetic look. She wasn't sure how much of the story she could stand to burden him with, but she supposed - in a really twisted way - knowing that someone cared about you so much that you were the key to their undoing had to be at least a little romantic. Or something.
no subject
It was true that she'd been through awful things. Centuries of every kind of torture imaginable, and you better believe she could dish it out as well as she could take it. Still, somehow, the last year Meg had spent as Crowley's personal plaything had been worse than all the rest. It had been personal.
The memories of it even bothered her from time to time as a demon - but this was the second time now that Paradisa had forced her to re-live the trauma through the mind's eye of a fragile human soul. She had really hoped this wouldn't be a regular thing... but she supposed that was the real catch to this place for her, personally.
She leaned into his touch again, closing her eyes momentarily and coming back to herself, trying to focus on the warmth of his fingers and the way even such a slight touch sent a pleasant shiver down her spine. It relaxed her enough to explain the worst aspect of it.
"You remember when Crowley busted in on all of us at that cabin in the woods before we went to gank that bottom feeding piece of crap from purgatory? Yeah... he kinda picked up on... well... us... " She drew a shaky breath, "He realized how much I care about you, and let's just say he took that one and ran with it."
She gave an almost apologetic look. She wasn't sure how much of the story she could stand to burden him with, but she supposed - in a really twisted way - knowing that someone cared about you so much that you were the key to their undoing had to be at least a little romantic. Or something.