StarryNightAboveTheClouds
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Detective (well, Profiler actually, not that anyone seems to care) Aziraphale Fell should have dropped his one and only Criminal Informant the moment he realized he was already falling in love with the man. Alas, he's never had good ideas regarding his self-preservation: when Anthony Crowley calls, he always comes. He will always come.
If this wasn't already very bad, his feelings are apparently reciprocated and, in the meantime, his unit has to catch the worst serial killer Washington D.C. has probably ever seen.
Crowley has no intention of leaving Aziraphale to deal with this on his own; Aziraphale has no intention of letting Crowley do something stupid just for his sake. Ah, if only love could ever be something easy.“Sometimes I wish I’d met you in a park.”
Crowley’s hands move lower, down, down until he reaches Aziraphale’s palms and intertwines their fingers. There isn’t a single chance this gesture can fall under the umbrella of ‘plausible deniability’. Though nothing about this sort of impromptu confession could.
“A park, uh? Nice.” A squeeze. “I always imagine something like a library. Or a bookshop or, not sure, whatever place is full of books.”
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Anthony J. Crowley, best selling author, has writer's block. He could blame the Accident, but deep down he knows his block started way before. He hasn't written anything in too long, if we choose to ignore the dozens of unsent letters addressed to the angel he lost two decades ago, when he moved to New York City.
When his best (and only) friend convinces him to take a little vacation in a small town in Connecticut, he expects peace and quiet. He doesn't expect to see the smile that still haunts his dreams again. Apparently, small towns are full of surprises, and how late is too late?The world stops spinning on its axis or, at the very least, Crowley stops breathing. This is absolutely impossible. He forces himself to swallow, to take a deep breath, as he doesn’t want to scare this girl off. Muriel, who is still smiling, all bright and wide and just like-
Oh, God. “A bookshop, you said?” He chokes out. This is impossible, and he’s being ridiculous. He is in London, this is just a sick coincidence and his stupid brain playing stupid games.
“Yes, you can see it if you turn around.” Crowley doesn’t move. “It’s called A. Z. Fell Books.”
Now, the world definitely stops spinning.Series
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 94,682
- Chapters:
- 13/13
- Collections:
- 3
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Bookmarked by StarryNightAboveTheClouds
25 Jan 2025