[Reader's Point of View]
You waited a couple minutes after he had walked into the bar before you walked in after him. Going to the local bar in town became a daily thing for Crowley ever since the beginning of his addiction. With almost every cell in his body kicking with humanity, he felt the effect of the alcohol and he loved every bit of it. But the one thing that he loved even more than the feeling of getting drunk, something that he would never admit aloud, was the human blood. The desperation he felt and the domination it had against him. He would never admit that he loved the feeling of being able to feel, and he would never admit how much he missed feeling before he had ever found out about the injections. He missed being human.
You walked inside the bar and looked around for the one you've been following for more days than you could count on your two hands. As you figured, and like many times before, he was seated at the front of the place on a bar stool. A small clear glass filled with brown liquor and ice was placed in front of him and he was quick to snatch it up and pour some down his throat. You could hear his sigh of relief from all the way on the other side of the bar. You decided to hold back from approaching him until you felt the time was right.
You watched, studied him like a science project you wanted an A on, as he drank back his drinks. One after another, you watch him pound them back. It wasn't till he started sluring his drink orders that you made your move up to him. You make your way up to the bar, taking a seat just one stool over from him and wave your hand, calling over the bartender. He's fast to make his way over to you, asking what he could get you. "Crown Royal and coke." You smirk. "Make it strong." You added. The bartender nodded and walked off to make you your drink.
After all this time you knew what Crowley preferred, just how strong he liked his drink. He took it next to straight, barely any coke mixed in with it. 'I knew more about him than any other would, or even should.' You think to yourself. Before his addiction he made it a habit of drinking everyday, but more so now because of the human blood.
The bartender comes back with your drink and hands it off to you. "How old are you?" The bartender then asks you as you pick up your drink and bring it up to your lips.
You chuckled, rolling your eyes at the young man in front of you. "Little late to be asking me for my age, isn't it." You state. It wasn't even a question that you directed to him, you hadn't wanted him to answer you back anyway.
A low chuckle leaves the month of the older man beside you, catching your attention as your head turned towards him. Crowley was facing the bar, looking at you from the corner of his eye, his drink held up to his lips, taking a sip from the bitter thing. You ignored it like it was nothing but knew it was everything you wanted. You wanted him to see you, notice you and play along with you. You mean, it wasn't like he would know you were manipulating him into getting what you wanted. It would just be a simple, short, game with the two of you so you could gain his trust and get your notebook back, and maybe even take over the throne.
His throne was originally what you had wanted, but after losing your notebook that was filled with your notes of tracking the King of Hell because you were trying to get away from a couple of his minions, it became all about getting the notebook back. It had been weeks after losing it that you did find where it was, after looking for hours on end in that one field you had ran through. That's how you ended up here, in this dirty, run down bar; to get your notebook back because it had somehow falling into the hands of the man it was filled with.
You shoed the bartender away to go help others that were waiting at the bar, drinking from your glass of burning fluid. You could still feel the King of Hell's eyes lingering on you. Again, you ignored him like he wasn't there. You knew him by now, almost too well if someone was to ask you, and you knew it bothered him when he was ignored. Expecially when he had been drinking. You continue to drink your drink, sometimes looking around the bar, bypassing his eyes as they roamed your face and body. His leg was bouncing up and down on the bar stool as he lifted up his drink to his lips only to find that it was empty. You hold back your smile as you watch him eye the glass for a moment before slamming it down on the counter infront of him.
"Bloody hell!" He screams. He stands from his seat at the bar, looking down at you. You hold each other's stares for no more than a couple minutes, just looking at one another in the eyes. A smirk begins to rise on your face as you start to realize what's about happen. "You think you're a funny one, don't you, Love?" His voice is low, and slurred, but not hard to understand.
You down the rest of your drink, standing up so you're chest to chest with the british man.
"Funny?" You question him, watching as he tried to keep himself from falling, placing his hand on the bar counter. "I would have thought of myself as something more . . . charming." You explain to him.
You knew you were getting on his last nerve because when he's in the state that he is in now, it didn't take much to get him angry at you. Even without the alcohol in his system he was irritable and tempered, but when you mixed the bose along with it, that's a whole different story. Like, for example, his demon minions know not to aporach him when he comes back smelling of liqure because they knew if they did, he will not think twice about ending they're soulless lives.
"Charming is by far the least I've seen from you tonight," The smell on his breath was unsatisfying and made my stomach turn.
You scuff, rolling your eyes. Stepping back, you move to step around him and head to the door. You wanted him to follow you, and that's just what he did. He grasped your arm once you were both out of the bar, slamming your body against the wall. He defently wasn't shy, that was for sure, even when he was sober. You tried to move from his grasp but you weren't able to. You knew as much as Crowley did that he was using his powers to keep you glued to the wall, but he didn't know that you knew of these powers so you continued to struggle.
"I would have picked you as being more of a tease." He slurred each and every word. You groan, trying to release yourself from his strong hold on you. He chuckled. "You aren't going anywhere till I say." He dips his head down to your neck, moving it to the side and placing small open mouth kisses along it.
"Let me go!" You bark at him, trying to move. You never realized just how powerful he was till now. You feel him release you and your body slides down the wall as you fall to the ground. You pulled your legs up to your chest and you looked up at Crowley, whose standing above you looking down at you.
"I don't get ignored." He says before snapping his fingers and disappears.