"No, no definitely not," he shook his head. "I rather enjoy living." He had never understood those types, really. Then again, he'd never really tried. He had his standards and, well, they didn't exactly meet them. Hands still moving as he spoke, Kol was beginning to wonder if it was a nervous habit he was developing because the reason behind his lack of ability to fully keep that promise was still circling around in his head as he spoke. "It's not...the staying out of Hell part that's the issue, really." There was a distinct mantra of Don't make me say it, don't make me say it running through his mind at that moment.
Kol tipped his head slightly as he watched Crowley fall back against the pillows, a slight smirk sliding over his lips. "Oh, that's almost cute. You thought it wouldn't be complicated da-being involved with Mikaelson." That oh-so-terribly timed Freudian slip that he barely managed to cover, and honestly probably didn't do a descent enough job of given who he was talking to, kind of made him want to slam his head into a wall. It was his siblings in his head, that is what he'd blame it on.