Crowley's hand is on the knob of the door, and he's wincing at Aziraphale's words, cringing at times. But he's not turning away, and each moment is another reconsideration of whether to turn the knob. He's snarled at Aziraphale before, manhandled him, suggested he do terrible things. Those were theatrics, though, in the name of making a point. He can count on one hand the times he's been a direct source of pain, and the thought of it now...

And then a four-letter word pings off him, makes a chink in his armor where the shadow can worm its way in. The aura of anger and sadness in the room sinks its hooks into him. Suddenly he pulls the door open, hard, his uncovered eyes flashing. Leaning against the door as he is, Aziraphale might fall forward, and of course Crowley will catch him if he does. But that'll put Aziraphale all the closer to him, and his words will be the same.

"Not good. Not nice, not kind, I'm not! It's not a funny little mistake they'll sort out in the paperwork, it happened! She threw me AWAY, She said 'no thanks, we don't want any' and I wouldn't go back if She asked me. And I'd break Her little experiment again if I had to do it over! That's who you think you should have been loyal to!"

Behind him, the shadow is looming. It's in the form of a red and black serpent now, strangely enough, even though Crowley seems to be embracing his anger. Like it's waiting for something more.