Crowley was drinking alone at the bar. He had finally stopped being miserable at home and had upgraded it to being miserable at a bar not too far away.
It didn’t seem like a bad idea earlier. But now, after drinking quite extraordinary amounts of alcohol, maybe he shouldn’t have come. At least not to that specific bar.
From where Crowley was seated he could see the exact same table he used the last time he was there. When he was surprised by a discorporated Aziraphale just after he thought he had lost his best friend forever.
Best friend. He took another shot.
- Whoa! Easy there, sir - A young woman approached.
The glass hit the wood with a loud noise.
- What do you want? - He could or could not have said that a little more rudely than he intended.
- Oh, I see - She stepped back. - You like being depressed on your own.
- I’m not depressed.
- Is it because of a woman?
Crowley allowed himself the free will of ignoring her. Unfortunately, it didn’t work as well as he thought it would.
- I knew it! - She insisted. - It’s always because of a woman.
- Yeah. Congrats, Sherlock. Have a gold star.
Crowley gestured to the barman and he filled the glass again.
- Is she beautiful?
- Gorgeous - Sarcastically, he went along with it. Maybe she’d leave him alone once she had her curiosity satiated.
- How is she like? I bet I can guess your type.
- Bet you can’t - He grinned and took a sip of his drink.
- Brunette?
Crowley shook his head.
- Blonde. Platinum blonde.
Almost white. And a bit fluffy. Like the clouds.
- Badass? - She continued.
Not exactly.
- Too pure.
- Clever?
- Only when he’s not stupid - Crowley answered, hoping that would put an end to the interrogation.
- Oh - She had the decency to look embarrassed. - Ok.
Crowley finished his shot and left a good tip on the balcony. He should have stayed home.
******
His flat was exactly the same as always. Basically empty. Except from the plants and a good amount of empty bottles of all drinkable things he could think of.
He threw himself on the sofa and took off his sunglasses. After a moment of silence, he allowed some tears to fall down his face.
- I miss you, Angel - Crowley said. To no one in particular.
But up there, somehow, maybe the message got delivered. The Supreme Archangel was now looking at a picture of him and a certain Demon, took in a famous stage in 1941.
- I miss you, Crowley - Aziraphale said.











