Magdalen Walks

There are dozens of ways out of this. Hundreds, thousands - more than Crowley could probably think of, and he's already got a few.

And yet -

(For once - )



He scratches his cheek, the picture of diffidence, and this time when he clears his throat, it's lost under a loud crackle from the fireplace.

"I was trying to think of a way to apologise for snapping without actually having to apologise for snapping."

He doesn't much care for the thin clutch of panic in his chest. Of course, he's very tired; it's been a long two weeks. But all the same.

"Since you want to know."

All the same, he'd really quite like it to -