The moment, barely a second, where they face each other, feels like it lasts far longer than conceavebly possible. There's a look in Crowley's eyes, a look that makes the angel stop and stare, and then he's pulled close.
Six thousand years. Remarkable, when you think about it. Six thousand years and a friendship that's gone through so much, and they never really allowed each other these gestures. These shows of... Appreciation? Maybe affection. Or maybe Aziraphale didn't. Hard to tell. It's really hard to condense everything in a way that makes sense.
He's quite frozen at first, finding himself unsure of how to proceed. But then, his arms are around the demon as well, and he swears he can feel his heartbeat. Or maybe that's his own. He can't tell.
"You're..." He falters, so quiet. "You're welcome."
Couldn't have been anyone else. They didn't have anyone else they could know and trust the way they do each other.
How dare you use that icon for that tag
Six thousand years. Remarkable, when you think about it. Six thousand years and a friendship that's gone through so much, and they never really allowed each other these gestures. These shows of... Appreciation? Maybe affection. Or maybe Aziraphale didn't. Hard to tell. It's really hard to condense everything in a way that makes sense.
He's quite frozen at first, finding himself unsure of how to proceed. But then, his arms are around the demon as well, and he swears he can feel his heartbeat. Or maybe that's his own. He can't tell.
"You're..." He falters, so quiet. "You're welcome."
Couldn't have been anyone else. They didn't have anyone else they could know and trust the way they do each other.