Chapter Text
Anxiety. That was all that young man Aziraphale was feeling at that moment. It had arrived, finally, the big day where he would meet his life’s soulmate. And how did he know that? Because there were only 8 hours left.
This thing that was causing him to feel so eager was a clock everyone was born with. It stood on your wrist and had a countdown from the moment of birth until the first time you met your soulmate. They could be on the other side of the street, or literally jump in front of you; the clock would countdown to the exact moment the special someone got on your eyesight.
And as Aziraphale had checked it before sleep, as usual, he decided to wake up earlier. The young man went to the bathroom, washed his face and looked into the mirror. "Today's your day", he whispered, "you are looking amazing. I guess".
After a long shower, he started to get dressed. He took nearly an hour just to pick the outfit. The wish to cause a good impression on the mysterious soulmate was really affecting him. Azira never took too long to get ready. At least on the usual days.
The white haired man went to a coffee shop, got his usual espresso and his book, but wasn't even able to focus on it. He stared deeply at every single human being that passed through outside the glass doors, and checked the "soulmate watch" every 10 seconds. Then, it finally got there: 5 minutes left.
Barely containing himself, Aziraphale went to the sidewalk and kept checking the pedestrians and the watch in an infinite cycle. 1 minute. He could feel his heartbeat pulsing on every single vein. It was getting faster and faster. Any of those people could be The One™ that would love him for eternity. Was it a boy, a girl, or neither? Tall or short? Sweet or sassy? The final countdown came. 10, 9, 8, the poor heart was almost exploding, 5, 4, 3, 2, 1…
"Hey, watch out, weirdo!", a man with hair bright red, just like fire, yelled as he bumped on Aziraphale, leading both of them to the ground. Was this man in leather and sunglasses his soulmate? All the anxiety was replaced with another feeling. Confusion. It didn’t seem to match. How would he, the introverted bookworm get along with this… inexplicably authentic figure.
— Sorry to bother but, is your watch marking zero too? I may have confused myself, sorry for bumping into you. — the angel-like man managed to let out, almost stuttering and apologizing more than he should, as usual.
The slim man with an eccentric image got up, with a look in his eyes that could not be told if it was full of annoyance or of interest. Seemed like a balanced mess of both. He offered his hand to help the other stand, even if he seemed too ‘edgy’ for that.
— I don’t know and I don’t really care. I broke it. It’s bullshit anyway. This whole soulmate thing doesn’t exist — He said, putting the sunglasses back on his face and avoiding eye contact.
His beliefs left Aziraphale’s mouth hanging slightly. How could his soulmate, or possible soulmate, not believe in it when the event of his whole life waiting was today, the big encounter? And he also mentioned his watch was broken, how was that possible?
— I am sorry for this, but can I see your wrist? — The smaller man said, reaching with his hand unconsciously, receiving a retreat from the other side. Even with the dark glasses on, he could see the embarrassment on the flaming man’s face. Was it what he said, about the wrist? — Are you ashamed of it? I apologize if I got into a subject that makes you uncomfortable.
Looking down, the guy in the leather jacket pulled the sleeves just enough to show the wrist, but still not showing it. He seemed to hesitate a little; he, who trusted nobody and no one was about to show something so personal to a man he just met, who claims him to be his soulmate. That if such a thing existed, right? They would probably never meet again because matches made in Heaven “are bullshit”. Right?
— That’s cool, I guess. You won’t see anything because I broke it long ago, so I don’t see the issue. Just — When he extended the right arm, Aziraphale went directly to touch it, grabbing softly the wrist — don’t touch it, please. I- It- well… Just don’t, okay?
The moment he said it, Aziraphale removed his hand and started to apologize, what he stopped doing with a simple wave from the other side. Looking directly at the watch, he realized: it was almost shattered, with no screen whatsoever. Million questions started to spring up in the usually rational mind, but he decided not to ask any. That moment was already too personal; he feared more would make the situation tense.
The silence dominated their contact for a while, when, exasperated from that long, intense and full of meaning and comprehension eye contact that was definitely unexpected, the sweet man, blurted out looking around them:
— Well, uh, nice meeting you! I guess you are — Aziraphale stopped himself mid-sentence. Was he about to tell the man who doesn’t believe in soulmates he was his soulmate? Nonsense. He quickly gave up on that, as he saw the other pair of eyes drift away, ready to leave — nothing, nevermind. Why don’t you, I mean, why don’t we get some coffee, or something? The coffee shop is here, anyways.
He started to try to explain the reason for the invitation, even though he didn’t understand it rationally, but it made complete sense. The other man glared directly at his eyes with a surprisingly sweet look, making Aziraphale’s face blush, as if to match the flaming hair of his supposed-to-be-soulmate. They both ordered their drinks and, only when the barista asked for their names, the shorter of the pair realized he didn’t know it, but felt like he knew him too well anyways.
— Crowley. You can call me that.