"I'm rather taken with them. It's a shame you hide them but I assume you have to. Protection, yes?" He saw that they were blood shot that night but it wasn't enough to detract from it's nice colouring. It's softness. Crowley's eyes held no judgement and they were different, unique - just like he was.

Aziraphale smiled a little and shook his head slowly. "Oh no, I really could not. I'm not good with that sort of thing. And I very much doubt I am 'catnip' for anyone. I just -- I don't know what I would do with myself."

He laughed awkwardly and shrugged his shoulders. "The closest I ever was to anything like that was a 'teens for Jesus' dance I had to attend because my father made me. The music was loud and even though no one there could be deemed 'cool' by any standards, I was still the least popular there. So let that stand for itself. I was bullied by an altar boy all evening for -- things I would not want to repeat." Mostly his queer little face and faggoty walk. "I am not a hit at parties."