Chapter Text
Somehow, the large, ivy-covered stone buildings that made up the campus only became more intimidating when the vast majority of the students left for the winter holiday. Where the campus was usually bustling with students and faculty, the constant murmur of conversation occasionally broken by shouting or singing or instruments being played with varying degrees of actual effort, it now was quiet, blanketed in white. It was stark, it was lonely, it was beautiful, it was sparkling, it was sad.
At least, Aziraphale was sad. She sat on her tiny bed, staring out at the blank square. Unlike the town she used to live, there were no lights up. No trees decorated. No music playing to cut through the chilled air. No family dinners where there was too much food and too much noise and too little communication.
Aziraphale shivered as her phone buzzed with a text message. Admittedly, sitting in a towel in the middle of winter in a building that was only theoretically heated wasn't the brightest idea, but Aziraphale always felt so refreshed after a shower, and this one had felt especially nice because she knew no one would walk in on her. She pulled the towel closer around her and opened her messages. Her mood instantly brightened as she saw that it was an invitation to meet Crowley.
She quickly wrung out her waist-length hair into her towel, letting the cold move her faster. She pulled on her underthings, a pair of thick tights that she fancied made her legs look just a tad longer, a skirt, and a warm sweater. She tucked her still-damp hair into the knit beanie she'd purchased from a campus fundraiser, layered her vest over her sweater (as she had not yet managed to purchase a coat), and reached for the door.
On second thought, she grabbed a second sweater as well. Crowley was always so cold, after all, and she didn't seem to mind the size difference. Finally satisfied, Aziraphale slid her feet into her boots (borrowed from Crowley, whose parents seemed to forget that bad joints, heeled boots, and ice didn't mix very well, no matter how grippy the boots may be) and headed out into the silent campus.
The snow crunched under her feet as she made footprints in the otherwise unbroken blanket of white. The cold nipped at her nose and fingertips, but the sensation was not unpleasant. She lifted her gaze to the sky as she walked. The blue was swiftly being taken over by dark, heavy clouds. There would probably be another storm tonight, the snow hurrying to fill the tracks was making, to erase any sign she was there.
Unwilling to think further along those lines for the moment, Aziraphale entered Crowley's building. The sound of her stomping the snow from her boots must have been louder than she'd thought, because she was nearly knocked over by the unexpected hug she received.
"Goodness, Crowley," Aziraphale laughed, turning to properly face her. "Were you waiting by your door or something?"
"Or something," Crowley answered coyly, grinning. "Just missed you is all."
"It's been all of maybe twelve hours, you impatient thing," Aziraphale teased. She was rewarded with a wrinkle of Crowley's nose as the redhead pulled her back into the safety of her room.
The room was much the same as it always was, with one new addition. Crowley had carefully strung and pinned up a string of green twinkle lights into the shape of a pine tree on one wall. The sight made Aziraphale stop short, even as Crowley continued to move towards their usual spot on the bed.
"Angel?" Crowley asked, raising an eyebrow. "Something wrong?"
"You decorated," Aziraphale breathed, emotions she hadn't expected rushing through her head. She had thought that seeing decorations would alleviate the melancholy she felt, but the unexpected sight of the little string light tree only made it worse.
"Well, yeah, a little," Crowley shrugged, leaning forward. Confusion was clear on her face. "Is that a bad thing? Christmas tree come to life and attack you?"
"No, no," Aziraphale shook her head, trying to clear it. She sat down stiffly on the edge of Crowley's bed, so wrapped in her own thoughts that she barely noticed long limbs wrapping around her. "It's… I'm sorry, dear girl, I seem to be a bit in my own head today."
"Wanna let me in there? I bet there's lots of room to share in that clever head of yours," Crowley cooed, removing Aziraphale's hat. She combed her long fingers through the damp, tangled curls. "What's got you all rattled?"
Aziraphale closed her eyes and took a deep breath. When she released it, she lowered her head to look at the sweater she still held in her lap. "My reason for staying over the break was a bit misleading, I'm afraid. Mother is going on a cruise, but not until Boxing Day. The truth is… the truth is that I am not welcome back."
"You what?" Crowley asked, freezing in her movements. "What do you mean, not welcome back?"
"Last Christmas was when my mother was convinced that it was high time I found a boyfriend. I had been going to an all-girls school, you see, and she had some concerns when I didn't trail after any of the boys at church. She… She decided that I must not be trying hard enough to appeal to the boys," Aziraphale laughed humorlessly, hands squeezing the sweater. "She had me have a couple blind dates, she put me on a diet, she made me keep my hair long… And when I told her I wasn't interested in men, she told me that she was done with me. That she'd ship me off to the first boarding school she could find. That… that she would pay my way, as long as I was away from her."
"Oh… oh, angel," Crowley whispered, pulling her closer. She took the sweater out of Aziraphale's white-knuckled grip before straddling her hips. She moved Aziraphale's trembling hands to rest on her waist before covering her mouth with her own. Aziraphale relaxed under the gentle pressure, though her breathing was shaky between the soft kisses. By the time Crowley pulled away, though, she had managed to avoid tears.
"Angel, what if we make some new memories for you? It sounds like you didn't have a holly, jolly one last year," Crowley teased gently, stroking her cheek with a thumb. "And, on a more serious note, your mum sounds like a piece of work."
"She is, rather," Aziraphale admitted, "and that sounds lovely. Are you, perhaps, feeling up to a venture into the village?"
"Sure, angel. Just let me get ready to go." Crowley gave her one last kiss before sliding off of her lap. She pulled on her knee and hip brace, along with one for her ankle, which had been especially sore that morning. Once those and her flat, fluffy snow boots were on, she stood. "Ready."
"Not quite," Aziraphale laughed softly. She pulled the sweater over Crowley's head, covering her in its soft warmth.
"Thanks, angel," Crowley grinned.