Curiosity
Title: Curiosity
Rating: PG
Length: Drabble (417 words)
Pairings: Lucifer/Jo
Era: Nothing specified (but, season 05?)
Warnings: None
Summary: She had always been curious.
Note: Written for comment_fic; prompt - 'Supernatural, Jo/Lucifer, wings'
~*~
She had always been curious.
Whether she was a young child, a teenager, an adult -- it never mattered how old she was, how much knowledge she had gained (or hadn't) -- she always wanted (needed) to know more.
And she knew the lore about him. The legends and tales about how beautiful he was, how glorious he was. How no other angel even compared to him in the slightest.
How there was reason and meaning behind his name, behind his pride.
She knew, and she understood ...
But she still wanted to see.
She wanted to see it for herself, to know -- to have witnessed it with her own two eyes -- to truly and fully understand.
She needed to; it was the only way to silence the growing curiosity inside of her, the deep yearning to know absolutely everything about him that she possibly could, in every way that she could.
But she couldn't just ask him. She couldn't just walk up to him one night as he stood, staring up at the starlit night sky, the night feeling even heavier -- even more silent -- whenever she approached him -- and ask to see him, without a vessel. Ask to see him in all his angelic glory. Ask to see (to touch?) his wings.
Even if the imagined image of his true nature had haunted her mind for weeks. Even if, ever since she had overheard Dean talking about what it was like to see just a shadow of Castiel's wings that one time, she hadn't been able to get the idea -- the curiosity, the question -- out of her mind. Even if she had pictured a powerful archangel with gleaming, golden wings that would wrap around her, that would feel soft and smooth under her touch ...
Even if she had thought of all this, she knew the words of her request would never leave her lips.
She wouldn't dare ... she respected him far too much to do such a thing.
And even if he never admitted it, she knew (or thought she knew) that some of the angel's glory may have faded over so many millennia.
And even if such a thing didn't matter to her, she knew it mattered to him.
It mattered to him far too much for her to shatter his pride like that.
So her curiosity -- though great -- could be put on hold.
He would show her when he wanted.
And she would wait for him.
~*~
Finite!
~Megan
Rating: PG
Length: Drabble (417 words)
Pairings: Lucifer/Jo
Era: Nothing specified (but, season 05?)
Warnings: None
Summary: She had always been curious.
Note: Written for comment_fic; prompt - 'Supernatural, Jo/Lucifer, wings'
~*~
She had always been curious.
Whether she was a young child, a teenager, an adult -- it never mattered how old she was, how much knowledge she had gained (or hadn't) -- she always wanted (needed) to know more.
And she knew the lore about him. The legends and tales about how beautiful he was, how glorious he was. How no other angel even compared to him in the slightest.
How there was reason and meaning behind his name, behind his pride.
She knew, and she understood ...
But she still wanted to see.
She wanted to see it for herself, to know -- to have witnessed it with her own two eyes -- to truly and fully understand.
She needed to; it was the only way to silence the growing curiosity inside of her, the deep yearning to know absolutely everything about him that she possibly could, in every way that she could.
But she couldn't just ask him. She couldn't just walk up to him one night as he stood, staring up at the starlit night sky, the night feeling even heavier -- even more silent -- whenever she approached him -- and ask to see him, without a vessel. Ask to see him in all his angelic glory. Ask to see (to touch?) his wings.
Even if the imagined image of his true nature had haunted her mind for weeks. Even if, ever since she had overheard Dean talking about what it was like to see just a shadow of Castiel's wings that one time, she hadn't been able to get the idea -- the curiosity, the question -- out of her mind. Even if she had pictured a powerful archangel with gleaming, golden wings that would wrap around her, that would feel soft and smooth under her touch ...
Even if she had thought of all this, she knew the words of her request would never leave her lips.
She wouldn't dare ... she respected him far too much to do such a thing.
And even if he never admitted it, she knew (or thought she knew) that some of the angel's glory may have faded over so many millennia.
And even if such a thing didn't matter to her, she knew it mattered to him.
It mattered to him far too much for her to shatter his pride like that.
So her curiosity -- though great -- could be put on hold.
He would show her when he wanted.
And she would wait for him.
~*~
Finite!
~Megan