[How can you tell? he wants to ask. He's not even certain which direction he came from anymore, all the trees in the fog have the same menacing outline, although perhaps that has more to do with the fact everything is all wobbly.
It makes him want to touch, to reassure himself that Aziraphale is real, and to make up for flinching, for the twisting of hands that he knows is his fault. That's always been a line they don't cross, though, or one that Crowley doesn't cross. Better not to touch Aziraphale, when he knows full well what he is. Some of the demon might rub off on him, make him dirty.]
M'fine. Lead the way if you know how to get out of this bloody mess.
[Bitten out, slightly, using anger to cover up the uncomfortable feeling of vulnerability and confusion. He knows it isn't fair to Aziraphale, but he's not exactly a bastion of healthy coping mechanisms.
It's been a long time since he's cried about something, but the crying jag he'd started at the bar is now threatening to come back, confronted as he is by Aziraphale, whether or not he's real.]
no subject
It makes him want to touch, to reassure himself that Aziraphale is real, and to make up for flinching, for the twisting of hands that he knows is his fault. That's always been a line they don't cross, though, or one that Crowley doesn't cross. Better not to touch Aziraphale, when he knows full well what he is. Some of the demon might rub off on him, make him dirty.]
M'fine. Lead the way if you know how to get out of this bloody mess.
[Bitten out, slightly, using anger to cover up the uncomfortable feeling of vulnerability and confusion. He knows it isn't fair to Aziraphale, but he's not exactly a bastion of healthy coping mechanisms.
It's been a long time since he's cried about something, but the crying jag he'd started at the bar is now threatening to come back, confronted as he is by Aziraphale, whether or not he's real.]