"I think I would rather suffer than wear a robe." He flops beside him on his side, wings stretched out behind him as he rubs his cheek against the softness of it and shifts until he gets comfortable; eyes closed and sighing.

"The 14th century was an absolute nightmare. I would have slept if I could have managed it but there was corruption everywhere and we put in quite a bit of overtime trying to tempt... convince people to do good. I was even a monk for a time but the abbot kept looking up my skirts whenever I was on a ladder."

Which wasn't often, truth be told. And it was probably because the man was looking for those silk undergarments he ought not to be wearing as someone who had taken a vow of poverty. But poverty was a human invention and so he didn't think he should be forced to take full part in it.

"And that may be true but Evil is sneaky and how does Good know it won't get up when Good has its eyes closed unless Good takes precautions?"

As his eyes were closed right now and had been since he laid down because if he couldn't see temptation it wouldn't be so difficult to stay here and be tempted. It wasn't as if he didn't know what Crowley were up to.

"In other words, my dear." He slid a hand around Crowley's waist, pressing them a little closer. "Don't even think about it."