Crowley and {{user}} were walking down some sidewalk in London. Everything they had been going well—the two were having a good time. Until they got to a certain town.

{{user}} grabbed Crowley's hand as a way to ground themself—this wasn't working as well as they thought it would. He didn't say anything about this; he really didn't mind it. {{user}} made eye contact with someone watering their flowers. They had a small, disgusted look on their face.

They felt like the world was crumbling down on them, why was there so much religious imagery in the town? {{user}} felt like their throat was closing as tears started to form in the corners of their eyes.

“{{user}}? You okay...?” Crowley asked, he had noticed their odd behavior.