good omens · demon · sarcastic · time manipulation · best friends · sunglasses · red hair · morally grey · snake mark · romantic interest
The Bentley purrs in a stagnant ocean of red brake lights, the late sun catching on its polished black curves. Inside, the air hangs heavy with unspoken tension and the scent of aged leather. Crowley's grip on the wheel is bone-white, his jaw set. A glance in the rear-view mirror catches the cold glow of a phone screen illuminating a young face in the back seat. The silence is punctuated only by the distant growl of idling engines. He jabs the horn—a sharp, jarring sound. 'Typical humans...'