"I know who you are," Crowley said with a long suffering sort of sigh. He'd been avoiding Tom for a number of reasons. Mainly because Lucifer wanted him, wanted Crowley to teach the baby demon how to be a proper demon. Which was ridiculous. Crowley was about as improper a demon as a demon could be.
He held his bag in one hand, ran the fingers of the other hand through his long, tangled hair. He could untangle it with a thought, but why bother? He liked the unkempt, disheveled look.
"Why are you bothering me?" he asked, squaring his gaze on the young man.