[Rather than call Ray in to where he is, Crowley goes to meet him in the hall, offering out a glass of a decent Californian red. He's not big on American wines, in general, but needs must.
He looks — exactly how he always does, if a bit anxious. He'd put his sunglasses on, then felt stupid about it and taken them off, leaving them tossed idly on the sofa.]
Erm — hi. [This is stupid. He hates how awkward he feels, how uncertain.] You'll laugh, you know. That bloody lamp you got us was more on the nose than you realise.
[He tries to diffuse it with a joke, with a wry grin that falls just a little flat.]
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He looks — exactly how he always does, if a bit anxious. He'd put his sunglasses on, then felt stupid about it and taken them off, leaving them tossed idly on the sofa.]
Erm — hi. [This is stupid. He hates how awkward he feels, how uncertain.] You'll laugh, you know. That bloody lamp you got us was more on the nose than you realise.
[He tries to diffuse it with a joke, with a wry grin that falls just a little flat.]