"I really am, mm," Crowley says. "I'm very grateful."
He loves how green the palm fronds are. Sunkissed, and floating in the breeze - a vivid, living green.
It's his other hand now that toys with the hem of Aziraphael's fantastically horrible pyjama shirt. And then (a pause), he slides it underneath, fingertips just barely brushing the skin of Aziraphael's stomach.
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timeasmymeasure
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Date: 2008-12-17 01:12 pm (UTC)He loves how green the palm fronds are. Sunkissed, and floating in the breeze - a vivid, living green.
It's his other hand now that toys with the hem of Aziraphael's fantastically horrible pyjama shirt. And then (a pause), he slides it underneath, fingertips just barely brushing the skin of Aziraphael's stomach.
"Extremely grateful," he leers.