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Summary
“He burned. He raged. He screamed. And he looked beautiful doing it. But even the most beautiful people can break. And he… he was already broken when I met him.”
Aziraphale Fell expected a job — film the world’s loudest, messiest band, keep his distance, get paid. What he didn’t expect was Crowley: the frontman from hell with a mouth like a weapon and eyes that dared you to look closer. They hated each other on sight. Or at least, that’s what Aziraphale told himself.
Hate was easy. Love was much harder. Especially when it meant watching someone fall apart... and still reaching for them anyway.