>> It's a dance they both do. One they know well by now. Constantly skirting around the truth, passing it off to the other. Knowing glances, expert footwork; a back and forth they have practised and memorised.
An unspoken "secret"— known to everyone including themselves.
Infamous for moving too fast, the former demon sniffs, glancing away for a moment before meeting those angel eyes once more. Selfishly, he basks in the undivided attention as he always does.
"Mm... the nicest wine you have.
—the special occasion wine."
It's /Aziraphale/ >>
Doing his job… Yes. Of course. Silly him. Not opening Aziraphale’s eyes to the world, showing him possibilities. Perhaps getting him to do a bit of the wrong thing at times… but it was okay in the end.
Oh he had said the wrong thing. Got it wrong. Why did he seem to always >
>> who needs cheering up, not Crowley. Better to enjoy their drink and chatter, than to over indulge as quickly as possible.
...and the slower they drink, the longer he can linger in the bookshop without having to outright admit he was here simply for the other's company.
>>
Small, but no less decisive, noise of disgust, nose scrunching up in equal disapproval.
"Wh— no, definitely not.
No, I'm /saying/... I'm saying it'd be easy for the two of you to slip away, and if I were you I'd hurry up and do it instead of... seeking advice from >>
"Hmm, yes..."
One could almost hear his brain ticking over. What the bloody hell was going on? Unless their news had flustered him /that/ much.
Dark eyes glanced up towards the other demon, narrow shoulders shrugging.
"Couldn't really care less. Do you want my job?"
@OFTHEFLlES >> Or a cottage in South Downs.
The location never really mattered.
His chest aches. He hates the way it feels. Smothers the burning coals before they reignite and set the world aflame.
"A good ol' fashioned truce? Then should I stop pretending >>
@Mrs_Shax_Varney that's not,,, nightmares just happen, they're not usually intentional, i don't think
[about to say something ENTIRELY too sappy about a certain angel before he remembers it's none of Shax's business.]
huh, /can/ you invade someone's dreams on purpose? don't see why not.
>> It verges closer on blame, doesn't it?
He waves those thoughts away, propping his hip against the angel's desk, arms crossed over his chest.
"..just.."
Forget about Heaven and Hell? How many times has he hissed that out and it landed on deaf ears?
"Let's have wine, angel."
"I was just doing my job," he mutters, a half-hearted attempt to deflect any of the ill-warranted praise Aziraphale often readily gives him.
Temptations and all that.
Though, with how dispirited the other seems to be, Crowley wonders if he can even call it praise.
>>
He thought on what Crowley said a moment, looking down at his plump hands fidgeting with his pocket watch chain. What if he had done it himself? Maybe God didn’t even know. But that would be impossible, wouldn’t it?
That was a worry for later, when his serpent was trying to be >
@synopticvet >> it's as if his gaze has never been set on anything other than the angel before him.
Intent, unwavering— and with a sliver of thinly veiled judgement as he so often has when he realises that Aziraphale has presented him with a problem which has such a simple solution.
>>