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“Damn it, damn it, damn it, damn it-” Crowley slammed the door to the Bentley but then rested his head against the cool metal of the car.
“How do I tell him? That I…”
“Love him?”
“Ngk…”
It was going to be fine. Humans didn’t last very long, after all. No need to rush things. Especially when you knew there was no point.
“That’s a big question, Anthony.”
“I know, I know. Sorry to bother you.”
“It’s no bother! I’m always willing to help a friend. Besides, I think he might like you too.”
“You-what?”
Crowley had arrived inside his flat. He tried to keep himself as level as possible as he strode to his throne. As soon as he reached it, however, his body collapsed as if he were a marionette whose strings had just been cut.
“You could write a letter. You don’t have to send it to him, but it helps to get your thoughts sorted.”
“You would suggest writing.”
“It’s gotten me this far. Besides, he does love reading.”
The evening had gone well. He and Aziraphale had eaten at some family owned place near the bookshop. It was comfortable and sweet; just the kind of place the angel loved.
Then they’d gone back to the shop for drinks. A perfectly normal night. And then Aziraphale had begun to speak.
“The most important thing here is honesty. Don’t lie to make him feel better. Just lay it all out on the table.”
“Thank you for your opinion.”
“I’m serious. He deserves the truth as much as you do.”
“Angel, I need to say something-”
“Dear, I have something I want to tell you.”
Crowley’s brow had raised in suspicion. His sunglasses had at this point been long abandoned and his golden eyes shimmered in guarded curiosity as he sipped at a merlot. “You go first, then.”
“Alright. Well,” the angel fidgeted with the ring on his pinky finger, “I think I’m in love.”
“What if he doesn’t reciprocate? I’m sure I’ve made all of this up. I should give up now. Retire to Australia and never see him again.”
“Don’t be so dramatic. I’m sure you have nothing to worry about. I’ve seen the way he looks at you.”
Crowley gagged on the wine. It took several seconds before he had regained enough composure to choke out, “Really? With whom?”
The angel blushed and Crowley felt his stomach drop to his toes.
“You know, it seems rather silly to say it out loud. I know I would never be able to act on it. But the feeling is so strong, and it’s just so nice to feel...”
“Ssspit it OUT, angel,” the demon hissed.
“Fine, fine.” The principality giggled nervously. “Oscar. I’m in love with Oscar.”
“Besides, even if he doesn’t feel the same, it’s better than hiding from him. You’re allowed to feel, too.”
Crowley had excused himself shortly after. At the door, though, he paused, placing a sealed envelope on the nearest bookshelf.
“Here. Read this. Don’t talk about it. Thanks.”
Aziraphale opened his mouth to speak, but Crowley had already slipped out with a muttered, “good night.”
“I’d best get going. Thanks, Oscar.”