Crowley's head tilts to the side, his lips pursing together and eyebrows furrowing in a way that reads sympathetic but is really utter disbelief. The idea of him not accepting the angel's apology is unheard of and frankly ludicrous. Even for his faults, Aziraphale is the sweetest person he's ever known. The irony of the situation isn't lost on Crowley, he is the unforgivable, and he's being asked for forgiveness. It's almost strange enough that he could laugh, but all that comes out is a weird cough.

"Forgive you? Angel, we're well past that." he sighs, his thumb stroking over Aziraphale's cheek adoringly. "Of course. I love you, Aziraphale." 

His eyes are still wet, renewed by the wavering he hears in the angel's own voice. Leaning in, he presses a kiss to Aziraphale's forehead before tugging his head close to his own chest, cradling him there. He can be strong for Aziraphale now, just as he's always had to be.

"Have you been upset about this all this time?" he asks weakly, "You really need to learn to talk to me."