Oh that was a beautiful sentiment. Crowley was trying so very hard to make this work. But it was more the truth than a lie. Maybe not reality, but the kind of reality Crowley wanted it to be. Just the two of them making something new in a strange new world. He wanted it to be that way too. At least a part of him did. To throw off everything and just live here like this, experimenting, discovering, becoming.

But it was terrifying, too. Terrifying in a way he couldn't explain. Like he could see the chasm and falling into it would be easy as thought and then what--? He knew that he was a terrible angel, hedonistic and too much given to small pleasures of humanity. And while he might have come close to that line and craned his neck to look over it, he had never crossed it.

And he couldn't.

Not even for Crowley's sake.

Especially not for Crowley's sake because it wouldn't even be for the demon, but for himself. And for that measure of selfishness, he would truly be damned.

But he couldn't bring himself to say so. To destroy that hope. That dream. An angel shouldn't actively destroy happiness, should they? Even if it did belong to a demon. He smiles instead, leaning forward to nuzzle Crowley's throat and then just rests there a moment, breathing in the scent of him.

"It sounds wonderful, my dear."

But his eyes never open.