Truly, they are, even by Crowley's exacting standards. They're better than they've ever been. He's free of Heaven's restrictions and can do as he pleases. The word hasn't ended, humanity goes on, music and drama and daytime television all continue. His plants are thriving, his Bentley is miraculously restored, and somehow when the world remade itself he had a few extra first presses of limited edition vinyl albums he didn't have before. It's all brilliant.
And not just for Crowley. Zirafell is no longer bound by Hell, and if millennia of necessary paranoia mean he's still anxious more often than not...well. He's here. He's *here*, and no excuse was needed. No Arrangement need or fancy pastry bribe. All right, there was a promise of alcohol, but only because they enjoy sharing it. He's here, sitting on an armchair Crowley long ago purchased solely for his use, and he's sitting there being comfortable and reading as though this is his own space. Just for the pleasure of being here, in Crowley's company, even if they aren't actively doing anything right now. Just spending leisure time, which they suddenly have in abundance.
It's perfect.
So it's a bit odd that Crowley, lying back on the couch and ostensibly playing match-3 games on his phone, doesn't seem to have touched the screen for several minutes, or even focused on it. Also that he keeps batting his foot against the cushions absently.
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timeasmymeasure
For Zirafell
Date: 2020-12-15 11:55 pm (UTC)Truly, they are, even by Crowley's exacting standards. They're better than they've ever been. He's free of Heaven's restrictions and can do as he pleases. The word hasn't ended, humanity goes on, music and drama and daytime television all continue. His plants are thriving, his Bentley is miraculously restored, and somehow when the world remade itself he had a few extra first presses of limited edition vinyl albums he didn't have before. It's all brilliant.
And not just for Crowley. Zirafell is no longer bound by Hell, and if millennia of necessary paranoia mean he's still anxious more often than not...well. He's here. He's *here*, and no excuse was needed. No Arrangement need or fancy pastry bribe. All right, there was a promise of alcohol, but only because they enjoy sharing it. He's here, sitting on an armchair Crowley long ago purchased solely for his use, and he's sitting there being comfortable and reading as though this is his own space. Just for the pleasure of being here, in Crowley's company, even if they aren't actively doing anything right now. Just spending leisure time, which they suddenly have in abundance.
It's perfect.
So it's a bit odd that Crowley, lying back on the couch and ostensibly playing match-3 games on his phone, doesn't seem to have touched the screen for several minutes, or even focused on it. Also that he keeps batting his foot against the cushions absently.