Crowley (drunk on a bar): sometimes I can't believe myself. I mean, I slithered here from Eden just to what? Hide outside his damned door?
Hozier (taking notes): tell me more...
Crowley, after his 5th drink: and sometimes I just want to kiss him, like- like, you know, humans. Real humans. Like people. It that too much too ask?
Hozier, already filling his second note book: No, no, go on
Crowley, absolutely shitfaced: and I've seen everything and done everything, y'know, but just - I've had no love like the love he gives, I'm nobody in the face of it. And I'd be absolutely - absolutely appalled if he tried to act like a saint, the bastard, like hell i could fall in love with someone I thought couldn't misbehave.
Hozier, scribbling on the napkins: mhmm, mhmm … now where do you say he lived again? Soho?
Crowley, on the verge of tears and with the saddest voice ever: and he did me wrong for a long, long -you can't even understand how long- time and still, after all he has done I never changed my mind. Everytime I'm with him, I feel this love almost bursting from inside and part of me wants to grab his face and scream, angel, please, try to love me. and it's so heartbreaking because I know this love, my love, will never die.
Hozier, with a lump in his throat, stops writing: There, there. You are gonna be okay. I'm sure he loves you back.
Crowley, one drink away from being discorpirated: Did I mention the apocalypse is coming?? The sea is gonna burn, the trees are gonna die, everything will be covered in hellfire and I still haven’t told him I love him!! This place’ll be a complete wasteland and I still won’t be able to tell him I’m in love with him!
Hozier, closing his notebooks and collecting his many scribbled on napkins: I’ve got albums to write
