It keeps happening
At first he was sure it must've been Muriel. Of course they wouldn't understand what the blankets were for! A coat keeps people warm right?
But then it just keeps happening.
If he falls asleep in the shop, he wakes up with that coat around his shoulders.
The worst part is he just can't figure out why the damn thing still smells....like him. After this long surely Crowley's smell should've taken over? But no...it's still old books and dust...still that faint, barely there bleach clean of heaven. Still wine and ink, still leather and glue. Still strong enough Crowley's not sure he's not accidentally miracling the scent to stay.
He's gonna have to stop sleeping here....it's messing with his mind a little now, because earlier, when he felt the coat fall into place gently around his hunched form (he'd really be trying not to sleep), he could've sworn he felt the ghost of a kiss to the top of his head, an I'm sorry barely there whispered nearby, hand lingering on his arm. But when he'd jerked awake no one had been there...not even Muriel
And the coat was still warm

















