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Crowley put a foot over the dark wooden stairs, glancing around the small greenhouse. He hadn't paid much attention to the structure since they had moved into the South Downs, except from just kinda throwing his plants carefully inside of it and procrastinating his own investigation of the place as he moved into the warmth of the house to bask in it.
He took a careful step and looked around. It seemed like a well enough spacious size, yet not overwhelmingly spacious as if it was the hallways of Heaven to make him nervous from the excess of space.
He walked up to a small bench next to the plants, sitting on it and resting his head against the wall. He closed his eyes for a second, opening them back and glancing at the corner where all of his bigger plants rested.
It had been a big change for all of them for sure.
They had a new space, in a new place, a new different kind of temperature, too. And most of all, a new "lord". Crowley's attitude had been way different since moving inside the cottage, for sure. And the plants had sensed it.
First of all, the sight was clearly different. Everything had changed from a gray, unsettling, and most of all, cold flat, to a warm, beige and brown toned little home outside of all the built up noise that was Soho. It had taken it's way on the demon, making him look less on edge and more relaxed since it.
The temperature as previously mentioned had truly made a big change as well. The flat was always dangerously cold, but Crowley had never had enough will to try to do something about it. He would close his eyes and bury his head into black pillows, hoping to get a good 5-hour nap or 5-day if we were feeling lucky.
The moment he stepped into the cottage, the change had been notorious. It felt more like Aziraphale's bookshop. It felt automatically warm and cosy even though he hadn't done anything to it for it to feel that way. It had probably been a miracle from the angel. Or maybe his smile alone.
He closed his eyes once again. He had also started to not shout to the plants since being in the cottage. He would just enter the greenhouse, take a look around, notice that none of them seemed to have a spot, and just water them and get out.
The plants would then hear a small bunch of giggles coming from the house then, as the sound of some liquid being poured would appear.
The demon smiled at his own thoughts, taking off his own reading glasses that Aziraphale had proposed for him to wear since he had told him about his problems with his own snake sight. Crowley had been hesitant at first about said proposal, but things changed as he put them on.
He could see the stars now. The real ones, not just images of them. And could read properly without his head dying in the process. That had been actual process. He had started to lay his head gently on Aziraphale's arm as the angel read in bed, occasionally stealing a few admiring glances and reading a few lines from the book the angel was reading at the moment.
He had caught a few rather suspicious lines in some of the books, giving Aziraphale a suspicious look that made the angel giggle sweetly. He knew how stupidly happy it made the angel that he showed even the slightest of interest for his books. So he kept on showing it. Cause it was free and it wouldn't hurt anybody.
He got up from the bench, making his way to a small shelf on the other corner of the greenhouse. He looked up for a moment and picked up a small ceramic pot and snapped his fingers so it would be filled with soil. He smiled and let it down on the desk.
He opened a small drawer and looked between a few different seed bags that he had bought in the market earlier that week out of pure curiosity with really no intention settled. He pulled out a white one, glancing at it's name. "Daffodil". He smiled.
Daffodils are meant to symbolise new beginnings, a fit he found incredibly sweet for the situation. He gave himself a smile that he would never admit to even have done in the slightest, opening the small bag. He let a few of the seeds fall into his hand and gently set them on the pot, giving a contented sigh.
He put everything back in place and put the pot back into the shelf, quickly turning around as he realized he had lost himself in thought and forgot his original purpose: watering the plants.
Soon, the seeds would likely grow into some abnormally beautiful flowers, and the demon could do something with them. Maybe plant more. Or they'd probably also look good on a vase on top of Aziraphale's desk in the cottage's library.