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“Never done something like this,” he admits. “Our families– we never could.”
It’s not much of an explanation, but she seems to understand regardless. She puts a hand on his shoulder and squeezes. He forces himself not to flinch from it. “I get it,” she says. “My girlfriend’s family was the same. It was fucking tough, hiding all the time. I think I might have cried, first time we held hands in public.”
Crowley turns to take proper stock of her then - she seems younger than him, by at least ten years, which makes him feel a bit silly about the whole thing. He crosses his arms. “Was?”
“She cut contact with them after a while.” The queue moves forward while she speaks. “Even if she hadn’t, though… it’s worth it, isn’t it?”