(TW: Slight mention of blood very briefly!!)
Crowley lie against the cool concrete of the pool hall's abandoned patio, with sorrowful eyes. The lot had been vacant for quite some time and was now the demon's favorite drinking spot. Some nights squatters would haggle Crowley for the bottle in his hand, but most were quiet.
Crowley would choose the silence over his own immortality if it meant shutting the world and the it's memory off from his heart. He raised the scotch to his lips and swallowed vigorously, gasping for air he didn't really need when finished. "Bloody hell, I'm drunk." He declared to the night sky stumbling into a standing position. The stars dazzled when drawn away from the heart of London and it infuriated Crowley. "I made that! Fuck off, I know how pretty you are.. Don't remind me." The word pretty caught in the serpent's throat like a piece of gum and he gagged in disgust.
"What am I even saying," he balled his fingers into fists and smashed the empty bottle against the brick until all was destroyed. Including his hands."What am I even doing!?" He continued, eyes darting to the blood oozing from his palms, to his knuckles, and back at the pavement where the shards of glass lay scattered. A tear escaped Crowley and his body shook trying to hold everything back from escaping him, his chest heaved as he dropped to his knees in defeat.
He pressed his head into his wrists and began to sob, nails tangling into ruby red locks. The crying went on for hours past midnight, and the pounding sensation began to hit the demons head half past three in the morning. He wiped his eyes and looked around with a slight cough, still no one. He sauntered to the edge of the hollowed out pool and undid his fly. After he was drained emotionally and physically he hopped the fence and headed home.
Nobody stopped to even glance at Crowley, which was smart considering the state he was in. He kicked off his boots and threw his coat onto the couch tucked in the far corner. With zero hesitation Crowley stripped down and hopped into the shower. Turning off the warm stream he towel dried his hair and grimaced when he got a glimpse of himself in the mirror. His waist looked leaner than usual, not that he'd ever been built before.
His hair was brimming shoulder length, and his collar looked broader due to weight loss. With magic Crowley lazily draped a towel around his hips and opened the medicine cabinet. Eight advils later he was passed out in bed before he could even get fully clothed.
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Heaven isn't as wonderful ||Good Omens FanFiction||
Fanfiction(Inspired by the song Heaven :FINNEAS) Crowley was left on earth, only to watch it burn slowly. Without Aziraphale everything and everyone was meaningless. After only two short years of being Supreme Archangel, Azira's worries became increasingly wo...
