"Impossible not to," Crowley responds. After all, Aziraphale had defied everything for the sake of a few humans that Crowley had tempted into knowing good and evil---that showed a bit about him. More than a bit, really. And he only grew more interesting every time they interacted. Every time Aziraphale defiantly tried to defend God's choices, but Crowley could tell he questioned them. They really were very alike----Aziraphale was just kinder than Crowley could ever be.

But, really, it has always been Aziraphale. No other creature in the universe has interested Crowley as much. No other person has listened or conversed or just understood as much. For a while, Crowley thought he knew that they had to have walls between them, but after a while, he came to realize they were just too alike. He cared too much for the angel and couldn't make it stop. Didn't want to, either.

"I always thought it was very obvious," Crowley says. "S'why I needed the holy water. In case someone saw me with you, realized I wasn't like the rest of the demons anymore."

He offers the angel a crooked smile. "You changed me."