Apr 30
1941 with @xflashbastardx
WITH A BELLY SATISFIED AND FULL OF WINE ( and the warmth of the moment acquiring the best of him ), Aziraphale rests his glass on the table.
A curve of a smile pulls at the corner of his lip, one ever so slight that might warrant a touch of suspicion—suspicion of the possibility of mischief or... hm, perhaps something worse. Any suspicions might be affirmed with the question that follows from angelic lips.
❝ So... ARE WE GOING TO TALK ABOUT IT? ❞
Amongst the many "its" to talk about, Aziraphale leaves it to Crowley's discernment as to which he's referring.
