Work Text:
Elegant fingers slipped free from their leather confines, touching first the table, then the leather, and finally the parchment that was bound to it.
‘This is a test’ the words had rung as clearly then as they did now, and Crowley sighed.
His fingers moved, found the edges of the page, running over little bumps on the parchment, reading.
‘The monks are blind. But by choice. If you so much as light a candle they will attack you.’
This wasn’t the book Crowley was after, and he searched blindly for the one he needed. The one Aziraphale needed.
‘I would go in myself…’ Aziraphale had looked so apologetic. ‘But it’s warded. Against anything holy, that is.’ Which had meant that Crowley was the idiot who got to walk around in the dark, hands outstretched as he searched and searched for the correct braille.
His fingers skimmed over the spine of another book and he paused, touching it once more.
Grinning, he felt around the book, making sure it wasn’t attached to anything or balancing anything, then pulled.
With a flick of his wrist, he was out, squinting at the bright sun and hissing at the damage. His eyesight was poor at the best of times, but seemed worse, somehow, after being in utter darkness and then suddenly in light.
“Oh!” Aziraphale hurried over to him, hands flickering over Crowley’s arms and shoulders to make sure he was okay.
“Here.” Crowley handed over the book, hands brushing against Aziraphales. “Now why don’t you buy me that drink.”
“Yes! Yes of course.”
They linked arms and wandered away from the hidden monastery of blind monks and secret books.