Pulling back, Aziraphale smiled sheepishly and then looked back over at the pile of books. "I have work tomorrow. And the books are in a disarray... I think running away to Paris is a bit of a fools errand. Perhaps not so far. Perhaps your apartment. Someone should take you home, after all, you're quite inebriated still."

With a smile, he raised his hand to brush Crowley's hair from his face, smiling a little at him. "Oh dear, I'm afraid I'm rash tonight, aren't I? Taking kisses and--and being impulsive. I did not realise how bad it has all been." Cause clearly it was.