There had at least been one thing that had felt similar to Crowley, one particular thing. A celestial being, a warm affection. Aziraphale. He knew that sensation, just as much as if a nightingale sang in Berkeley Square. Perhaps you wouldn't have heard such a thing, but you would certainly know it once you experienced it.
It didn't take very long for the viper to follow the radiating warmness, it was relatively sickeningly and yet pleasant. The demon could have undoubtedly found his way to the bookshop with his eyes closed if he had to. Taking in his surroundings, the city. How odd, and yet so much like the reality he'd known?
This wasn't really what Crowley had expected to fall into, and he had done the whole falling thing before. Take it from him, not something he'd want to have a go at, again. Clad in black, sunglasses stiffly pushed up towards the top of the bridge of his nose. Suddenly, a little look of cleverness on his face when he stood before the familiar front of the bookshop.
It only took a little diabolical miracle and Crowley had found himself inside. Spinning in a slow circle as he took in the hundreds of rare and exclusive books. Giving a shake of his head, and a palate of the air and Crowley was back on the sport for his companion. "Angel, I'm home." He called out in parody. Lifting a brow as he peered over the edge of his shades.