It turns out wrapping up all those important plot points with the justice they deserve takes a lot of space. Iâm sticking to my "finish before posting" rule, and Iâm finally down to the last two chapters. They are currently fighting me like mad, but I will show them whoâs boss and wrestle them into submission.
Like most (all? 99.9%?) of writers, Iâm fueled by enthusiasm. If youâre excited to see where this goes, feel free to drop some energy or screaming in the tags/inbox to help me power through these final scenes! Questions welcome as well.
They stayed by the window watching the snow drift downâthick and slow as feathersâlulled by its mesmerising fall and the quiet contentment of each otherâs presence. But eventually, Aziraphale managed to coax Crowley back into bed. Even his Submissiveâs fascination with the snow was no match for the pull of warm blankets and an even warmer embrace. Crowley had gone willingly enough, mumbling sleepily as Aziraphale tucked the blankets securely around his chilled limbs and pressed a kiss to his forehead.
The storm was still going strong, when Aziraphale woke up again. According to the mantel clock, it was nearly half past eight, and the room was dipped into a dim grey light. Crowley was already awake, sitting up beside him with the covers pooled at his waist and his eyes turned towards the window. Theyâd left the curtains open the night before, so from the warmth of their bed they could see the snow still tumbling down outside in a soft, steady curtain.
Aziraphale let out a wordless sound as the cogs in his brain slowly started back to life, shifting towards Crowley to tug him under the duvet. âCome here, youâll catch your death like that,â he mumbled, cradling Crowleyâs cool body against his chest to warm him up. Crowley went willingly, tucking his head under Aziraphaleâs chin and pressing his nose into Aziraphaleâs neck with a satisfied sigh.
âItâs still snowing,â Crowley murmured, pressing his chilled hands against Aziraphaleâs warm belly. Aziraphale jerked back with a hiss, but that didnât seem to bother Crowley overmuch. âSorry, Iâm cold.â
He didnât sound particularly sorry either.
âItâs all right.â Aziraphale tangled their legs together as he stroked Crowleyâs hair. âIâll warm you up.â
This was usually when Crowleyâs hands would begin to wander, stroking Aziraphaleâs body with unmistakable intent. But this morning, he didnât seem in a rush to start anything, content to simply bask in their closeness.Â
âCould we... could we get up?â Crowley asked after a moment, pulling back to search Aziraphaleâs face with bright eyes. âI want to see the snow.â
Aziraphale blinked at the unmistakable eagerness in Crowley's tone. âOf course, darling, anything you want.â It made him wonder just how long it had been since Crowley had been allowed outside on a snowy day. âYou can go first for a shower. Iâll sort out the room.â
Crowley pressed a parting kiss against Aziraphaleâs collar bone and then slipped out, sparing a last lingering look to the snowy sky before striding into the en suite.
