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Summary
It had all been going well. Aziraphale had gotten a new shipment of old books he was excitedly telling him about. He had sat near Crowley to show him what he was talking about, his chubby fingers pointing to parts of the books excitedly. He had that soft sweet look he got when particularly excited about something like a good dessert. This is then where he majorly ruined everything.
“Isn’t it great?” Aziraphale had asked gently clutching the book softly, a warm smile on his lips.
“Satan, I love you.” Crowley replied without thinking.