His hands, he realises to his horror, are twisting nervously in front of him, knuckles cracking in the thin fingers; he balls them into fists and shoves them in his pockets, caring nothing for the sleek line of his suit.
Crowley tries to look - to sound - grateful, but it isn't particularly easy. Not when you know better than anyone that a favour from the devil is often no manner of favour at all.
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His hands, he realises to his horror, are twisting nervously in front of him, knuckles cracking in the thin fingers; he balls them into fists and shoves them in his pockets, caring nothing for the sleek line of his suit.
Crowley tries to look - to sound - grateful, but it isn't particularly easy. Not when you know better than anyone that a favour from the devil is often no manner of favour at all.