[Crowley very nearly laughs, has to bite his tongue to stop himself from letting it slip out, because he knows that there's only two outcomes to him laughing bitterly at Aziraphale talking about what he needs. Either Aziraphale takes offense, or he gets curious, and neither option are especially appealing. Arguing is one thing, but even when he's angry, he keeps the worst parts of himself locked down.]

Would you stop twisting my damn words?

[He has to assume that's what it is, because Aziraphale is more than clever enough to know that isn't talking about physically restraining him, or manipulating him into staying.]

We both know you're too nice. You'd stick around if I asked, and you'd hate it, which I'd get to feel shite about, and we'd be no better off than if you'd left.

[It's difficult to be honest, especially when it comes to emotions, or their relationship, but the exhaustion and frustration make it easier.

As does having the distraction of the dishes, something to look at other than Aziraphale, even if he's being a little rougher with the crockery than it deserves.

The point, in all this, is that he doesn't want to have to ask, he wants Aziraphale to want to stay. That isn't something he can ask for, though, it isn't something Aziraphale can control, just like Crowley can't control that it hurts.]