[Crowley murmurs a quiet thanks, since there's only so much holy light he can tolerate before it'll start to get uncomfortable, and he knows if Aziraphale accidentally burned him a little, he'd fuss about it for weeks.

At the rest of what's said, though, he finally eases back a little, just enough to gently hold Aziraphale's face in his hands. The yellow of his eyes has swallowed up the whites, just thanks to how overwhelmed he is by all that love.]

This place isn't good, you've got to understand that before you get hurt. [Well, the calm that had washed over him was nice while it lasted.] And it will hurt you, sooner or later. Just — I'll be here, whatever happens.

[It's better, he thinks, to be prepared for pain. The kind that comes as a surprise is worse, he learned that a long time ago.]