Work Text:
Crowley held the noose in his hands. The rope was made of a sturdy twine.(Bee always used the same twine in their crafting. They used to always be making little eco-friendly handbags with the stuff. Crowley some times showed them off at school.)
He looked around his messy room which he never gets around to cleaning. "Don't know why I expected to see it magically clean itself up before I die." Oh well. He shudders, letting out one last tear(Everytime he got bullied as a kid, Crowley would always go up to Bee crying his little head off. "Was it Hastur again?" They'd ask, Then they would make some peppermint tea for the both of them just to cheer lil' Crowley up.) Before he hangs himself. Just
