It was a fine day for a walk in London, though for Crowley it was not.

Since he had been abandoned by Aziraphale he was more pessimistic, and now he was sitting in a bar where he always went, with one bottle of wine finished and another half-finished.

He wanted to be all alone, but you came along.

"What?" He had an obvious serious tone in his voice, as he looked at you through his sunglasses.