#atahthi

     ❝ You, er, you like them, then? ❞ A slow smile grows on his face, eyes lighting up as he takes a biscuit for himself.    ❝ It’s my grandmother’s recipe, you know.  Quite a hobbit -- known to drink many a family member under the table at birthday parties, actually. ❞ He chuckles good-naturedly; despite her shortcomings, Laura Baggins honestly was quite the personality.  ❝ She, erm.  She’s always had a bit of a taste for baked goods. ❞

Lady Tremaine

     It should have been a prime opportunity.  Left to his own devices, as he would be for quite some time tonight, there would be nothing to stop him from snooping just a little bit.  His dear friend is hiding something; he knows, he just knows, but for all the fishing he’d done throughout the days leading to this, all the straws he’d grabbed, every attempt he’d made to root out whatever the hell that something was, he’d walked away empty-handed.  But of course he did.  If anyone knew his methods (and how to thwart them – damn it), it would unfortunately be Bo.  Knowing that, though, was hardly a deterrent.  Nori instead viewed it as a challenge, and acted accordingly.  All he needed was an extended period of time on his own to search and snoop.  If all went according to plan, he would find the whatever in question, and Bo would be none the wiser.  Everybody wins.  In theory, anyway.

     Nori had it planned to the very smallest detail, much like any heist.  The moment the door closed behind his departing companion, he’d set to work, combing through drawers, under the bed, behind the desk, anywhere he could think of, even going so far as to peek down a floor vent.  Unlikely anything would be in there, but you never know.  It’s better to check and come away with nothing than skip over and miss out.  And, when he finished with one area, any belongings were carefully set back into place, precisely how they’d been prior to his nosy self moving them around.  That’s a skill of his, remembering those little things; no doubt that contributes in no small manner to his brand of talents.  How nice it is to finally use them for good instead of – less good.

     However, no matter how well-laid a plan, situations can quickly go sideways with but the slightest hitch.  If he forgot to replace one little thing, or neglected to close a drawer precisely as it had been, he’d be caught, and any chance of searching again would go right out the window.  So he’d careful, working one area at a time.  What he hadn’t accounted for was the untimely return of the man he’d hoped to avoid today.  When the door creaked open, he’d nearly jumped out of his skin, dropping a package of – whatever was in that particular envelope, back into the drawer..  Whirling around, he faced that familiar voice (too damn smug for its own good), heat welling on his cheeks as wide eyes settle on the object in hand.  

            —– — —— damn it.

BUT IS THAT THE HINT OF THE EDGES OF CAS’ MOUTH THO????

wizard & glass starters. (selectively accepting)

*chinhands* *does a few more lunges for good measure* i don't even care that im on the wrong blog gdi. Crowley can possess bo's face for a minute.

Maybe it's for the best that he had, though, as he has a feeling that request would be shot down the moment it left his lips.  School was important to Bo, enough so that skipping class seemed entirely out of the question; if he'd done it, Nori hadn't seen it, nor would he believe anyone who claimed they had.  To think he'd miss a lecture for something so...well, to be honest, stupid as Nori feeling affectionate, was a disappointment waiting to happen.  Thus, he may as well spare himself the rejection and keep his mouth shut.  And then --- ah, there it is, the alarm that signals the end.  Beside him, against him he feels the telltale stir, hears the sleepy mumble as a hand reaches over to fumble with buttons until that horrible sound stopped.  The start of the usual routine.  The alarm stops, there’s a moment’s pause to wake up just a little bit more, and then that sleep-addled voice is shooing him away.  

Like clockwork.

Normally, he’d make some feeble protest that inevitably ended with his giving in and scooting away, accompanied by some snarky commentary, of course, because no, it does not bother him, not in the slightest, why the hell would you think otherwise.   This time, however, is different.  The details on why, he’d rather not dwell upon any longer than he has already; the important part is, it is different, and he is not having any part of the normal routine.  Not this time.  It’s stupid, no doubt a little selfish, and maybe it’ll end in the expected rejection but fuck if he cares right now.

Instead of relinquishing his coveted hold, he clings tighter, pressing impossibly closer, burying his face in the curve of Bo's neck along with his final request.  A plea, more precisely.  How he loathes to describe it as such, but if it works, even once, he'll call it damn near anything Bo wished.  It comes on a whispered breath, a single word, muffled both by angle and skin in his final effort, and he's hoping, hoping it does the trick.  

                "--- ---- -- stay."