Crowley raised his eyebrows. Was that mortal talking to him? Seemed likely. Crowley was the one who was parked illegally in the middle of the street. Not that there was a ton of traffic to begin with.
The demon looked at the man, serpentine eyes not blinking for even a second, and smiled a rather eerie grin. “What the hell, indeed.” Though, Crowley didn’t associate much with Hell anymore. He was in their bad books for having stopped the Apocalypse. Among other things. Also for, as other demons put it, ‘going native.’
Then he looked away from the man and back toward Arkham. He was so incredibly glad to be out of that place. The only real perk he saw to being confined to the room there was that he got to sleep an awful lot and Crowley really loved sleep. It was his Achilles heel. He loved sleep, as unnecessary as it was to do, having slept through entire centuries at a time.
Now, a nap sounded divi…glori…. Wonderful. It sounded wonderful. If only he could remember where his flat was in relation to the rest of the City. Crowley looked around, then put his sunglasses back on.