Crowley feels all of his attention pull sharply toward the hand on top of his.
This isn't the angry hand-holding attempt from earlier, this is gentle. He feels his chest constrict, feels a dizzy mix of panic and hope. Maybe Aziraphale won't be so angry at him. Maybe it will be fine. His face feels hot and Crowley is torn between letting go to fish for his sunglasses and not wanting to pull away from the warmth of the touch.
Snakes like warmth, and Crowley likes the touch -- as undemonic as the thought is.
"Uh," he manages, and feels the insane urge to soften it all. Maybe he shouldn't worry Aziraphale, after all. Shouldn't worry him. How can he manage that, though? He's said it now. Already told him about it. He can't, exactly, backtrack. That'd be obvious, and then Aziraphale might be angry. "Just," he tries, "something I saw. For a minute."
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This isn't the angry hand-holding attempt from earlier, this is gentle. He feels his chest constrict, feels a dizzy mix of panic and hope. Maybe Aziraphale won't be so angry at him. Maybe it will be fine. His face feels hot and Crowley is torn between letting go to fish for his sunglasses and not wanting to pull away from the warmth of the touch.
Snakes like warmth, and Crowley likes the touch -- as undemonic as the thought is.
"Uh," he manages, and feels the insane urge to soften it all. Maybe he shouldn't worry Aziraphale, after all. Shouldn't worry him. How can he manage that, though? He's said it now. Already told him about it. He can't, exactly, backtrack. That'd be obvious, and then Aziraphale might be angry. "Just," he tries, "something I saw. For a minute."