@lessersinned | PLOTTED STARTER FOR AZIRAPHALE
You can stay at my place, if you like.
The words had spilled from Crowley’s lips without a second thought. Aziraphale had LOST his bookshop, where he’d created a home & where he’d kept all of his treasures, treasures that he’d collected for CENTURIES ( which, of course, were incredibly rare books ). They were, in every sense of the word, alone in the world, with one another—–there were no sides left to return to outside of their own. For the DEMON, they’d always been only on each other’s side ( no matter how much the angel tried to DENY it ), but it had never been so .... final. So FREEING.
It would’ve felt a great deal better if they both weren’t so keenly aware of the CONSEQUENCES to follow their actions, but .... they could worry about that tomorrow. Soft, uncertain protest rose IMMEDIATELY from Aziraphale, but once he was reminded of the simple truth, he agreed.
They were SILENT on the bus ride & instead of feeling the need to act as though they weren’t planning something, or just plain talking .... they simply sat next to one another. They’d NEVER done that before, not on public transport. It felt natural, as if this was how it always SHOULD have felt like.
It WASN’T until they were safely within Crowley’s flat ( where he very abruptly remembered that the angel had never set FOOT in his flat before now ) that the thought came to him. Ever since he’d said the words ....It burned down, ‘member ? , he couldn’t stop thinking about the bookshop. About how he’d burst through it’s doors & shouted for Aziraphale, DESPERATELY. How Crowley had believed that the last time he’d actually SEEN the angel, he’d called him so CLEVER, but also so stupid. It tore at his insides, made him squirm a little, unable to STAY STILL—–
But then he thought of Adam’s change to the universe. He’d changed it & perhaps he’d set some things back to how they were before. He & Aziraphale were seated upon his sleek, leather couch that gleamed white in the dim lighting ( strangely comfortable for how it appeared ), simply DRINKING, when the thought struck him.
❝ You know, ❞
Crowley began, his words just slightly slurred from the alcohol but sounding THOUGHTFUL. He spoke almost gently, nonetheless.
❝ Since Adam basically—–REBOOTED the whole world, d’you think the bookshop might not’ve burned down afterall ? ❞
It was a HOPEFUL thought, albeit a small one, within the grim reality they were anticipating.
