[4.08] People will either congratulate us or think we're totally effing insane >> Eric Kripke
There was a note on the pillow. It wasn't the most obvious place to put it, but she knew it was the first place he would look for her so she went with it.
Outside on the fire escape. Bring coffee and paper. Love, Ru
PS Blankets, too.
Comparatively, as since she'd come to the first conclusion in the shower of all places, telling Sam was easy. He'd trust her to the very end and she knew it, it was part of their understanding, it was part of how they worked. She knew him better than he probably liked and he knew how to hurt her. It was like a mutual agreement. And on the upside, she had faith in him and he needed that. It worked for them.
Alec on the other hand, he didn't need her. Not the way Sam did. Alec, she sometimes still thought, could leave her. She didn't have any hold over him other than the fact that she loved him. And didn't people write songs about how love wasn't enough?
Whatever.
She was sitting on the fire escape with books surrounding her and an empty cup of coffee now holding the remains of a broken pencil, running her fingers down the pages of impossibly old text thanks to Bobby. (She was sure he held a soft spot there for her.)
She was waiting and half hoping he wouldn't see the note, but damn his cat eyesight...
Outside on the fire escape. Bring coffee and paper. Love, Ru
PS Blankets, too.
Comparatively, as since she'd come to the first conclusion in the shower of all places, telling Sam was easy. He'd trust her to the very end and she knew it, it was part of their understanding, it was part of how they worked. She knew him better than he probably liked and he knew how to hurt her. It was like a mutual agreement. And on the upside, she had faith in him and he needed that. It worked for them.
Alec on the other hand, he didn't need her. Not the way Sam did. Alec, she sometimes still thought, could leave her. She didn't have any hold over him other than the fact that she loved him. And didn't people write songs about how love wasn't enough?
Whatever.
She was sitting on the fire escape with books surrounding her and an empty cup of coffee now holding the remains of a broken pencil, running her fingers down the pages of impossibly old text thanks to Bobby. (She was sure he held a soft spot there for her.)
She was waiting and half hoping he wouldn't see the note, but damn his cat eyesight...