Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

The room was tiny. A small bed was pushed into the back corner, leaving room only for a small wardrobe and a small desk. There was about four square feet of empty space in the middle of the room.

Those four square feet were currently occupied by two large suitcases and a backpack that had been carried up those horrid three flights of stairs by the room's new inhabitant.

This inhabitant panted slightly, pulling her long, wild curls into a rushed ponytail. She still had to unpack before she could rest. She hefted the first of the suitcases onto the bed (for there truly was no room to open it, otherwise) and unzipped it.

The inside of the suitcase (and the other one, as well) was stuffed to the brim with books. She began to pull them out, keeping them neatly alphabetized as she stacked them in her wardrobe. Once the contents of both suitcases were neatly placed in the wardrobe, she stowed the empty suitcases under the bed, creating lovely pull-out storage. She pulled her clothes out of the backpack next, grimacing at the wrinkles. She folded them as nicely as she could, taking inventory as she placed the folded clothes into the suitcases.

Because she had had to sacrifice luggage space in order to bring so many books, she had only brought whatever clothes she could cram into her backpack: two sweaters, one reversible tartan vest, three blouses, one smart skirt, one pair of trousers, a nightgown, and her underclothes. She supposed that she could pop into the small town nearby should she find herself lacking in clothing options.

With the room finally settled, Aziraphale toed off her sensible low-heeled shoes and laid on the bed. She sighed softly as the generic clock on the wall ticked rhythmically towards five o'clock. She was exhausted, but there was no time for a nap before the dining hall would open for dinner. After a brief lie-down, she stood back up. She removed her dress and changed into a pale blue long-sleeved blouse, her tartan vest, and the beige skirt. She pulled the rubber band off her ponytail and ran a brush through her waist-length near-white curls.

Feeling refreshed and ready to face the other students, Aziraphale slipped her shoes back on, grabbed her key, and headed out of her new home.

~~

The dining hall was bustling with activity by the time Aziraphale arrived. It was set up with a buffet of different options to choose from, each of which reached out with tendrils of aromatic temptation towards the gathering diners. There were stations set up with sandwiches, salads, pasta, sushi, desserts, and everything in between.

After navigating the crowded buffet area without stepping on any toes or dropping any of her food, Aziraphale placed her full plate down onto one of the few remaining empty tables in the dining hall before sitting primly in a chair. She picked up her fork and began to eat, unable to help a smile as the lovely taste hit her tongue.

The smile froze as someone plopped themselves in the seat next to her, all but dropping their plate in the table.

"Well, that was a bloody cluster. Mind if I sit here?"

Aziraphale didn't respond right away. She was too busy taking in the girl who was suddenly sprawled in the seat beside her.

The girl had deep red hair that was buzzed short on the left side, the right reaching just past her chin. She wore sunglasses -- an odd choice for an indoor dinner, Aziraphale thought -- that obscured all but the faintest hint of the eyes underneath. The girl had what looked like a tattoo at first glance, but Aziraphale could tell that the snake below the girl's ear was drawn on with a marker. She leaned forward, the leather jacket shifting on her shoulders just enough that Aziraphale could see that her turtleneck was sleeveless.

"Hello? If you want me to go, just say something, because I honestly don't know how to interpret that."

Aziraphale's cheeks reddened as she hurried to straighten her posture. "Y-yes! I mean, of course you can sit here. The tables aren't reserved, as far as I'm aware."

The girl snorted. "I know that much. I was just checking if you minded. Name's Crowley, by the way."

"Aziraphale."

"That's a mouthful, innit?" Crowley's cheeky smile made it clear that she was merely teasing.

"It is, rather. Alas, it's my mouthful of a name." Aziraphale gave her a shy grin in return. "Yours isn't too common either, though."

"It's my surname. Like it better than my first. My parents expected a boy, you see. Had a name all picked out and everything, and out I pop without the right equipment, and they decide to just feminize the name they picked. Antonia. Hate girl names that come from boy names, me."

"Crowley it shall be, then," Aziraphale confirmed, her smile growing bolder. Something about the other girl just put her at ease. "Are you new, too?"

"I am, but my cousins've already built up a reputation for me." Crowley grabbed a mini apple tart from her plate and held it out to Aziraphale. "Want this? I was hungrier when I was in line."

"Oh, yes please, if you're sure," Aziraphale nodded. Her hand was halfway to the treat when she found it already in her mouth. The indignant protests at being hand-fed melted away as the pastry melted across her tongue. Her eyes closed and she hummed happily.

"It's really that good?" Crowley asked, an eyebrow raised above the frame of her sunglasses.

"It's absolutely scrummy," Aziraphale insisted, wiggling a little in her chair. "I must remember to grab one next time."

"Yeah, must do." Crowley had an odd look on her face for a split second longer before it went back to normal. "You get your schedule yet?"

"No, the post hadn't arrived at my building yet. It'll probably be waiting for me when I get back, though… I'll admit, I am a bit nervous. I've never been to a school like this before."

"'S not so bad, I've heard," Crowley assured. "My cousins seem to like it, at least. The oldest one, he's in college now, and he says it really helps you get used to that."

"That's what I heard as well. Part of why I came. I've never been terribly social, and my family wanted me to 'jump into the deep end' early, as they say," Aziraphale sighed, her gaze lowering to the table.

"Well, if we've got classes together, maybe we can come to some sort of arrangement. Sit together and the like," Crowley offered, that odd look reappearing.

Fondness, Aziraphale realized, and the thought colored her cheeks. "Yes, I believe that should do nicely."

"See you around, then, angel."

Chapter Text

As Aziraphale entered the classroom, she felt the usual nervous panic rise up inside her. She felt as if there were hundreds of eyes trained on her, judging her old-fashioned attire that clung just a little too tightly on her plush frame. Of course, she knew that was silly. No one was looking at her at all, absorbed as they were in organizing their materials for the upcoming class.

Well, there was one person looking at her. Looking and grinning and waving and instantly calming the nervous blonde.

Giving her a relieved smile, Aziraphale sat at the desk next to Crowley's. They sat nearest the door, with Aziraphale sandwiched between Crowley and the wall. "How did you know this was where I prefer to sit?"

"Guessed," Crowley shrugged, swinging her legs around so she sat sideways at her desk. "'Sides, I like sitting near the door. Don't have to walk as far, that way."

"Well, I suppose this arrangement will do nicely. May I compare our schedules?" Aziraphale asked, pulling hers out of her overstuffed backpack. Once Crowley handed hers over, Aziraphale compared the two. "Oh, splendid! We're in all the same classes, save for my extra literature class and your botany class."

"We'll have to scope out the other classes, then. Call dibs on the front corner seats."

"Precisely."

The class quickly fell silent as the professor entered the room. Aziraphale's attention snapped to the lecture, finally feeling in her element. The feeling of the pen gliding over the paper as she took notes made her smile. She glanced over to see Crowley typing her notes on a small laptop and tutted softly. She much preferred handwritten notes.

~~

By the time Aziraphale's additional literature class came along at the end of the school day, she only felt the briefest hint of nervousness as she entered the room. She took her usual front corner seat, having found that she was very comfortable there.

A boy sat in the chair next to her. He was dressed in a slate grey polo shirt and whitewashed jeans, his brown hair neatly styled. After the boy had pulled out a plain composition book and a pencil, Aziraphale felt his eyes on her.

"Hello," she greeted, giving him a quick smile. She felt slightly unnerved by his lilac eyes that seemed to be able to see her every flaw, but she was determined to be polite. "I'm Aziraphale. And you are?"

"Gabriel. Are you new here? I don't think I've seen you around before."

"Yes, just moved in yesterday, in fact," Aziraphale nodded, her hands fiddling with the bottom button of her sweater.

"Have you had the chance to check out some of the facilities on campus? The gardens, the pool, the gym?" Gabriel asked, eyes flicking downward.

"No, not yet. I'm sure I'll get around to visiting them, though," Aziraphale assured, the fiddling and fidgeting growing worse.

"Maybe we can work out sometime."

Before she could respond, the professor arrived and class began around her. Aziraphale struggled to pay attention, however, as her thoughts spun circles around her head.

Gabriel surely hadn't meant anything by it. Aziraphale simply must stop assuming the worst of people. Just because people were like that at the last school doesn't mean that this place would be the same. Besides, the fact that she was worried at all must mean that any criticism is warranted.

Right?

~~

Aziraphale was pleasantly surprised to see Crowley already waiting at the same table as the day before with two loaded plates in front of her.

"Hungry, are we?" Aziraphale asked, raising an eyebrow.

"I thought we could try the lot," Crowley explained, pushing one plate towards her.

"That sounds like a splendid idea." Aziraphale sat down, scooting the chair closer to Crowley's. She pulled one of her notebooks out of her backpack. "We should make a list of what's good."

"Splendid," Crowley teased, sticking her tongue out at Aziraphale's disapproving glance.

After a few minutes of trying food and recording the results, Aziraphale's fork stilled. "I have a rather silly question."

"Hmm?" Crowley asked, mouth full of french fries that were in desperate need for more salt.

"You said your cousins went here? Did… did they mention anything about the climate here? Between the students, I mean." Aziraphale's cheeks were red and her eyes were fixed on the scratches in the small round table.

"You mean, like, bullying and all that?" Crowley shifted in her seat, running a hand through the long side of her hair. "My cousins are really not the best judges of that. They tend to be the ones to cause the problems, see. Why? Someone bothering you?"

"No," Aziraphale answered, perhaps too quickly. "Just wondering."

"I'd prefer if you told me, in case it's my kin," Crowley insisted, though her tone was gentle. "Don't tolerate people upsetting my friends, me."

"We're friends?" Aziraphale asked, glancing up at her.

"Sure, unless you don't want to be. 'Sides, you're changing the subject. Who's messing with you, angel?"

Aziraphale blushed at the nickname, but she didn't complain. She'd been called worse, and Crowley didn't sound malicious. "Just this boy. Tall, athletic, dark hair… but I don't even know if he's messing with me. I often read too far into things, you see."

"Not my cousins, then. But you're allowed to be upset by things, even if people don't mean them. Trust me. I've had more than my fair share of people 'just trying to help.'" Crowley shifted again, one hand absently rubbing her own right thigh.

Aziraphale bit back her curiosity, not wanting to push Crowley into telling her anything she didn't mean to. Just as she was about to try to clumsily change the subject, she found a bite-sized brownie being held to her lips.

Whether she knew it or not, Crowley seemed to always be able to head off the anxiety.

~~

When Aziraphale made it back to her tiny room, she noticed a scrawled note on the bottom of the dinner review page of her notebook.

Hey, angel
Here's my number
Text me whenever
Crowley
Ps
I know you're curious about me. I'm curious about you. All you have to do is ask if you want to know.

Chapter Text

"Would you like to tour the grounds with me?" Aziraphale asked as they walked through the hall, pushing the butterflies in her chest away. It had been nearly a week since she'd read the note, since she'd put the number into her mobile without the courage to use it. "Celebrate making it through the first week? Perhaps we could pack a picnic."

Crowley paused, mulling it over. "I guess we can. I didn't think you were one for sitting and eating on the ground."

"Oh, but I love picnics!" Aziraphale's face glowed with a smile, her hands clasped together in front of her. "Something about the sunlight, the smell of the flowers… it always makes me feel better. And I've heard that there are spots in the garden that are simply wonderful for picnics. Private, perfect for talking. Do say yes."

"Yes, alright," Crowley sighed, putting up her hands in playful defeat. "I'll just have to change first. Meet you there?"

"I'll bring the food."

~~

Aziraphale smiled to herself as she loaded up one of the picnic baskets the dining hall had available to rent. She filled it with sandwiches stacked high with roast beef and cheese, a couple different kinds of juice boxes, and several options of chips to choose from.

With a wiggle of excitement, she headed over to the dessert table to finish off the preparations for the picnic.

"Aziraphale, how nice to see you outside of class." Gabriel's voice rang out from behind her. When Aziraphale spun to greet him, she was surprised to see Gabriel standing with a group. "I thought you might want to meet my friends."

"Oh, yes, hello," Aziraphale greeted with a small wave. She felt cornered against the dessert table, felt the panic rising as she was examined by Gabriel's friends. None of the three looked particularly friendly, and their expressions reminded Aziraphale of times she'd rather not be reminded of.

"You're right, Gabriel," the shorter of the girls spoke, her dark features conveying her disapproval. "She'd almost be pretty, were she to join us at the gym once in a while."

"Now now, Uriel, we mustn't jump to conclusions," the taller of the girls scolded. "Working out can't perform miracles on its own."

"What if she had some clothes from this century, Michael? That might help, for starters," the other boy sneered. "We can worry about the rest later."

"Michael, Uriel, Sandy, ease up a bit, okay? Sorry, Aziraphale, sometimes they forget that you can hear them. Anyway, I hope you will join us. We hang out on Sundays at the gym, work out a little, do homework a little, that kind of thing. We will see you there, right?" Gabriel's toxic lilac stare managed to pierce the fog of panic long enough for Aziraphale to realize that she was nodding. Gabriel clasped his hands together. "Excellent! We'll see you then. Ten o'clock."

As Aziraphale gathered her basket with shaky hands, she felt a sharp pain at the back of her head, jerking her backwards. The tears started, obscuring her vision as she whirled to see who had pulled her hair, but she could see the triumphant look on the shorter boy's -- Sandy, Gabriel had called him -- face.

Without selecting any desserts, Aziraphale hurried out to the gardens.

~~

By the time she was close enough to make out the black and red outline of her friend, Aziraphale had managed to pull herself mostly under control. She mustn't let Crowley see that she'd been crying, that would just lead to questions, and questions lead to explanations, and explanations lead to…

Well, nothing good, at any rate.

Aziraphale let her long hair hang in front of her face, hoping that it would obscure enough of the blotchy redness that always happened when she cried.

If Crowley noticed, which she most certainly did, she had the decency not to comment on it. Instead, she reached a hand up from where she sat on a black blanket patterned with tiny red hearts. "C'mere. It's nice down here."

Aziraphale took her hand and lowered herself down, her legs tucked under her. She took a deep breath, holding out the basket. "I… I brought lunch."

Crowley reached over and began unpacking the meal. As Aziraphale watched, letting the smooth movements and shifting shadows calm her, she noticed a new addition to Crowley's outfit.

"Is that a brace?" Aziraphale asked, gesturing to the black contraption on her right knee. She immediately flinched back as she began to doubt herself. "I'm sorry, that was terribly rude, I--"

"I told you to ask, angel. And yes, that's a brace. One of them, anyway. I've got a couple." Crowley shifted a bit closer to her, pulling her braced knee up a bit. "I've got bad joints, see. Something to do with my lower back, I think, but it fucks up my hips and knees. 'S why I like to sit near doors."

"Oh… Oh, and I asked you out on a walk, too. I'm so sorry, Crowley, I--"

"Treated me like a person," Crowley finished for her, placing a hand on Aziraphale's arm in an attempt to stop the distress. "Not everybody does that, which is why I don't wear the braces often. If going for a walk with you was a bad idea, I would have said no. I just thought you should know, in case you wanted to run a marathon or something and thought I was avoiding you."

"Thank you," Aziraphale breathed, leaning into the touch. "Thank you for trusting me."

"Don't thank me, angel," Crowley groaned, rolling her eyes. She didn't move her hand, though. "You don't have to do the same for me, by the way. Just because I'm telling you things about me doesn't mean you have to share anything you don't want me to see yet, or at all. You can, though. I'm fine with whatever."

"Oh… oh, thank you, dear," Aziraphale smiled, clearly relieved. "I'm not sure I'm ready to talk about everything yet… but I must admit that I'm rather interested in learning whatever you'd like me to know about you."

"Alright." Crowley leaned back, stabbing a straw into the little foil circle at the top of an apple juice box. "I have shitty joints and chronic pain. My family has a reputation for being total assholes. I like to glue coins to the sidewalk and watch people trying to pick them up. I believe in love at first sight. I have super light-brown eyes, like, they're basically yellow, and they're sensitive to the light. Basically just a bundle of pain sometimes, me… Oh, and I'm into girls."

Aziraphale's face lit up. "Really? That would explain part of why we get along, at least. I am of that particular persuasion as well."

"Are you, now?" Crowley gave her a lopsided grin. "I woulda thought you were more straight-laced than that."

"No, I'm afraid not… I can say that I'm lesbian in name only. I've never… I haven't truly… I've never had my feelings reciprocated," Aziraphale confessed, her gaze dropping to her hands as the events of the day flashed through her mind. "Male or female, no one… Well, it's been clear that I'm not terribly attractive."

"Bullshit," hissed Crowley, suddenly sitting up straight. "Who the fuck told you that?"

"Crowley, dear, be sensible. I'm old-fashioned, outdated, out of shape. I'm hardly --"

Aziraphale's words were cut off by rough lips covering her own.

"You're perfect."

Before Aziraphale could form a coherent thought, Crowley had already left.

Chapter Text

The next time Aziraphale saw Crowley, it was as if nothing happened. Sure, the redhead saved a seat for her at every class, picked a few more desserts than she could eat just so Aziraphale would eat them, but there was no mention of that day at the picnic. For nearly a month, it was as if Aziraphale had dreamed the whole thing.

Aziraphale had tried to talk to Crowley about it a few times, bring up how her lips still tingled where they had met, but it always got lost on the way out. There was a barrier that she felt powerless to cross.

Crowley clearly did not want to speak on it, either. Whenever Aziraphale's mouth would open to try to discuss what had happened, her expression would morph to one of fear, as if she was bracing herself for a scolding. Perhaps that's why Aziraphale could not bring herself to ask.

As the emerald green leaves changed to hues of gold, red, and brown, Aziraphale felt something new whenever it came to Crowley. It was an odd feeling, not entirely pleasant, that lodged itself somewhere between her chest and the pit of her stomach. She found herself staring at the other girl more and more, noticing things she hadn't before.

Crowley walked with a limp. The limp was hard to see with the natural sway of her hips, but she very clearly favored her right leg, especially when a storm was on the horizon. Aziraphale had started to be able to predict the proximity of oncoming storms simply by the way Crowley walked down the hallway. Aziraphale had also noticed that Crowley tended to wear skirts on those days, tiny little black or denim things that only barely managed to cover Crowley's hip brace. Aziraphale longed to reach out to her, to offer her a steadying arm, but she didn't want Crowley to think that she was pitying her.

Crowley always took notes on her computer. On one of the rare occasions when Aziraphale was late to dinner, she had seen Crowley with earbuds in, listening to something on her laptop. While Crowley had claimed that she was listening to some new music group, Aziraphale had seen that she was actually listening to her notes with Text-to-Speech. After that, Aziraphale made sure to take the extra time to type out any notes they added to their dining notes instead of simply sending pictures to her.

Crowley disapproved of the work-out-and-study group Aziraphale had decided to join with Gabriel and his friends. She always seemed like she had something more to say about it than 'sounds boring,' but her tongue seemed just as tied as Aziraphale's.

~~

Crowley's tongue unlocked itself the first time she snuck in to watch one of the sessions. What she saw was awful.

Aziraphale was the only one working out. She was dripping in sweat as she did push-ups, Gabriel standing above her with his hands on his hips.

"Come on, Aziraphale. You're never going to lose the gut if you can't do a few measly push-ups!" Gabriel kicked lightly at one of her hands, swiftly bringing Aziraphale to the ground. "You know we're just trying to help, but you have to give us something to work with."

"Unhealthy body, unhealthy mind," Sandy piped up, pulling Aziraphale to her knees by a handful of her hair.

"Please, we've been at this for hours," Aziraphale whimpered. "Surely it's late enough to rest?"

"And ruin your progress?" Michael asked mockingly. "If you'd simply stick to the diet plan we all took time to set up for you, you wouldn't have so much making up to do."

"Those ugly clothes aren't getting any looser, are they? In fact, I'd even say you should look at getting new ones soon." Uriel's expression was cold and her words cutting, tearing new holes in Aziraphale's confidence.

"They might be right, Aziraphale. Buffet-style dining halls aren't a good idea for everybody, especially for people without the discipline to handle it." Gabriel squatted down, putting his hand on Aziraphale's shoulder and squeezing with enough force to leave bruises. "That girl you sit with. She knows how to handle herself around food. You think she'll keep wanting to be around you if you can't control yourself? How would that look, when you can't even get the attention of a lesbian? How will you ever get a boy to like you?"

"Of course I'll still want to be around her, because I'm not absolutely horrible like you lot!" Crowley's voice rang out, echoing through the large gymnasium as she stomped down the stairs of the bleachers. She stumbled at the last couple of steps, but she didn't care. Rage won over pain.

"Go on, Aziraphale," Uriel urged, and Sandy pushed her forward with a knee to the spine. "Confess your sins to the lesbian, and you can go with her."

"I… I'm weak," Aziraphale whimpered, her shoulders shaking with sobs. "I'm pathetic… I'm fat, and ugly, and--"

"Enough. We're going, angel." Crowley offered her a hand and pulled her to her feet. She wrapped an arm around Aziraphale's shoulders, both for comfort and for her own stability, as she faced the others. "Have fun with your holier-than-thou club. We're not having any part of it. From the bottom of my heart, fuck you all."

Crowley covered Aziraphale's ears as she walked her out, not letting her hear any more of the bullshit being shouted at her.

~~

By the time they had made it out of the gym and onto the sidewalk outside, Crowley was staggering. "I need some help, angel, please…"

Aziraphale was quick to put her arm around Crowley's waist, her fingers clenching shakily around her hip bone. "A-are you alright, dear?"

"Fell a little coming down the stairs. I've got ice and stuff in my dorm, it's not far," Crowley hissed, obviously not pleased about having to put so much of her weight on Aziraphale, but her knee absolutely refused to hold her. She gently but firmly directed Aziraphale to her room. She unlocked and opened the door before turning to her. "Well? You coming in or what?"

"Yes, please," Aziraphale nodded, wiping viciously at her eyes as she helped Crowley into the room and to the bed. Crowley unzipped and removed her boots before grabbing an ice pack from the small fridge by her bed and a knee brace.

As Crowley tended to herself, Aziraphale took a look around the room in an attempt to calm herself before any of the inevitable talking began. She and Crowley sat on the bed, which was equally as tiny as the one in her own room. This bed was covered in blankets, including the black heart-patterned one from the picnic. The walls were covered with posters of art that Aziraphale recognized, prints of art that she strongly suspected were made by Crowley herself, and a couple posters of Queen. Instead of the awful overhead lighting, Crowley had gone with a series of lamps and string lights. Easier on the eyes, Aziraphale realized.

She was startled by a hand on her shoulder, but the touch was gentle and warm. "Angel… I think we should talk about this."

"I suppose…" Aziraphale's fists clenched and she squeezed her eyes shut. Before she could work herself back up, however, Crowley wrapped her arms around her and gently pulled her to lean back against the pillows.

"Just tell me what you're comfortable with, Aziraphale. I'm here to listen." Crowley ran her fingers through Aziraphale's curls, not caring that they were sweaty and tangled. She began braiding the pale locks.

"I've dealt with this kind of thing for years," Aziraphale admitted, her voice soft and tentative. "It's part of the reason I came here… Several people at my old school formed a game where one would ask me out, only to stand me up or laugh in my face or ignore me completely. By the end of the school year, people were sharing a horrid video someone took of me in the locker room, and it just… it got to be too much. I thought this school might be different, a fresh start, but it turns out that I was the problem, after all."

"No, no, angel," Crowley cooed, draping the long braid over Aziraphale's shoulder and onto her chest. She pulled her closer, cupping one round cheek in her thin fingers. "You're not the problem. You're not a problem, period. You're kind, smart, beautiful..."

"Hardly," Aziraphale scoffed, grabbing roughly at her own soft stomach. "Look at me."

"I am, angel. You're fat, yes, but you're beautiful. The two aren't mutually exclusive, no matter what assholes think." Crowley gently pushed Aziraphale's hand away from her stomach before replacing it with her own.

"Why did you run?" Aziraphale asked, her voice no more than a whisper. "Why did you run when you kissed me."

"I didn't ask first," Crowley explained, looking away. "I should have asked first. Didn't want to force you to say anything by staying."

"Oh, Crowley… Could you… would you do it again?"

Crowley wasted no time before kissing her. This time, Aziraphale kissed back, and the feeling of her plump lips against Crowley's had the redhead seeing stars.

No more words were spoken after that. The comfortable silence was interspersed with gentle kisses until they both found themselves drifting off to sleep. Somehow, Crowley's tiny bed was just the right size for them to sleep curled around each other.

Chapter Text

When Aziraphale left the hazy darkness of sleep, she felt very strange. Her muscles were sore in her arms and legs, and one shoulder ached with bruises that she knew would be dark against her creamy skin. Her eyes, though still closed, felt heavy and strained, a feeling she knew came from crying too close to sleep.

Despite that, she felt amazing. There was a comforting weight on her chest, a shaggy red mane tickling her chin. Her fingers were laced through longer ones that belonged to the arm draped across her torso. Her other arm was wrapped around a pair of slim hips. She gently squeezed, massaging the lean muscle that surrounded the bony hip.

"Mmmn…" Crowley snuggled closer into the soft fabric of Aziraphale's sweater vest. "Feels nice, that…"

"I didn't know you were awake," Aziraphale admitted, pressing a bit harder. She smiled as the other girl made a noise somewhere between a whine and a purr. "You're very nice to wake up to, you know."

"I'll keep that in mind." Crowley shifted closer before freezing with a wince. "Knee's still busted. Hip's not so good, either."

"It'll be a long skirt day?" Aziraphale guessed, gently helping her adjust her position.

"Very observant, angel," Crowley grinned, rewarding her with a kiss to the soft skin under Aziraphale's jaw. "I might need a spot of help until this calms down."

"All you need to do is ask, darling." Aziraphale kissed her nose. She sat up and stretched, groaning as her sore muscles protested. "Next time I try to do push-ups after pull-ups, remind me never to do either of those horrid things."

"You'll never hear any complaints from me if you never go back to a gym in your life," Crowley assured earnestly. "Never minded a bit of padding on a woman, me."

Aziraphale blushed, giving a sad shake of her head. "Forgive me if I don't believe that."

"I'll just have to teach it to you." Crowley kissed her cheek. She paused, drawing back. "Are you still okay with this, angel? I know you were going through a lot last night, and I don't want to--"

Aziraphale cut her off with a kiss. "I may not believe you, but I do believe I love you."