Of all the things he expected, he expected to get somewhat wet (and he had) and he expected for Adam to be awkward to get into the car (not so much) but he had not expected that. Whatever that was. Good lord, the clinging, the wet fabric, the definition behind the soaking shirt. It was -- it was a lot.

While Crowley explained his glasses, he couldn't even focus on whatever it was, he was just unable to look away from his beautiful eyes. The way his beautifully red hair was dripping beautiful water on his beautiful, flawless face.

"...Oh. Oh, sorry, I was staring. It-it wasn't anything bad. It's just your eyes, they're--" Enthralling. Beauty incarnate. Dazzling. "They're so golden. They're really rather nice. Like honey." He giggled awkwardly and then realised how bad that sounded and his eyes widened. Why did he say that aloud? This was not great. This was embarrassing. Aziraphale looked everywhere but Crowley. "We should, uh, we should get going. I'm sure young Adam wants to be in bed."

"No, I'm not tired." Said the sleepy boy as he rubbed his eyes.