WHOOPS I'm making up excuses to kiss you
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25 Aug 2019
“Why did you come here?” Aziraphale interrupts. “Why do you keep doing this?” All the saving, he means, all the chasing after Aziraphale he does. It can’t only be that he’s not keen to endure a replacement. That can’t be it, not anymore. He’s going to get himself in trouble, and then it’ll be Aziraphale’s fault.
Crowley’s mouth shuts with a click. He shifts uncomfortably in his seat, reaches for the handle of the fork and taps his fingertips against it before setting his hands in his lap.
When he speaks, it’s very soft. “Don’t you know?” he asks.
Aziraphale, unnaccustomed to his heart refusing to translate why it throbs with such haste, shakes his head.