This was still so new. Often Crowley woke, thinking he'd just had the most marvelous dream...and then it wasn't a dream and there was a loving and affectionate angel just waiting for him to wake. He didn't hate it. In fact, he loved every minute of it. It was just a little overwhelming still. Six thousand years of desperately wishing but knowing it could never be...and now it was. If he needed to breathe, it would have taken his breath away.
And tiny moments like the angel bringing him tea and kissing - yes, kissing him were... Sometimes almost too much. It didn't quite feel real.
"Always kind of liked Christmas," he admitted, and he knew Hell couldn't get to him here because Beezlebub would have been on him like....well, like a fly on shit, which might have been fairly close to accurate. A demon liking Christmas? What would they think of next?
Turning up his nose a bit, Crowley took a sip from his mug. "What does winter blend entail, exactly?"