excerpt: "Gosh, Crowley thinks to himself. Is Aziraphale really that drunk? He thought he was more dramatic. Does he really take his English that seriously? Crowley puts on a robe and walks around the dull lit hotel room. He groans. Technically demons don't really need to sleep, but Crowley swears that his body is uncomfortable after the consumption of too much alcohol. His mind is too bottled up from talking earlier that he jumps into bed and barely thinks of his surroundings. His body merely feels exhausted, aching from the effort of suppressing his desires." All my late night writings when I refused to sleep. There's no broken english, I've made sure of it! It's a short story of Crowley and Aziraphale :) And yes, the cover is my very OWN artwork lol!