Hold Fast, Break Slow
Chapter 1: You Never Could Tell These Things
Crowley lingered at the door to the coffee shop longer than was strictly necessary. He didn’t usually get nervous meeting a new client these days. But for some reason, there, outside the unimaginative too-large windows of the shopfront, he felt unmoored. His skin stretched too tight over his bones, which felt too numerous to count. His mouth was dry. He felt soberingly untethered to the one thing he had in this world. His body. The first time meeting a client was always slightly unpleasant, navigating the conversational landmines associated with “proper” conversation. Having to rely on double entendres and pointed emphasis to hold an entirely different conversation beneath the surface of pleasant greetings and talks about the weather. There was an expectation. A give and take.
