Their history is suddenly divided into all the time before now and whatever will come after: this fulcrum where they're currently balanced, this moment of touch and acceptance. Crowley's gaze flickers down to see where Zira's thumb strokes his skin, so lightly but unquestionably there, the motion deliberate. Then he looks back up to meet Zira's eyes again, looking for...not reassurance, no. Further confirmation, perhaps, that this is something new. That from this point they walk forward together instead of separately.

Crowley suddenly remembers his fingers are still lingering near Zira's mouth, and that he himself is still essentially kneeling at the demon's feet, and he laughs a little. Slowly, so as not to disturb this new and delicate balance between them, he stands. His hand remains in Zira's, turning to clasp his fingers. "Sit next to me?" he asks, tugging vaguely towards the couch.