Work Text:
To his surprise, Aziraphale found himself intrigued by some, well, modern songs that Maggie had been playing recently in her record shop.
The song “Halo,” in both its ethereal and soulful versions, felt particularly pointed, as he was perhaps the only being with an actual halo who had listened to the song. Still, he understood that the singers meant “halo” as a metaphor, to refer to what Anathema would call an aura or others might call a being’s essence. The angel felt a rapport with the song and its expressed desire to embrace and be embraced by the essence of another.
Much more unexpected was the delight he found in the rather fast-paced dance tune “Levitating.” After all that he and Crowley had gone through–millennia of navigating the animosity between their respective sides, culminating in outbursts like Armageddon and the Second Coming–he wanted nothing more than freedom. He yearned to break free from all constraints, to enjoy the sheer exhilaration of being with Crowley, perhaps in non-earthbound ways. They still needed to complete their dance, which had been so rudely interrupted by the attack from Hell and then meddling by Heaven.
How could he express to Crowley how much he wanted to dance with him among the stars and the moon? He made a “song playing list" and sat at his desk. As he wrote his poem, he let himself be guided by the rhythm of the music.
Starlight
Honey golden eyes glow
Wings shimmer iridescent
Soar and glide through silver starlight
We swoop and dive, lift off and leap
Over mountains of the sheerest
Diaphanous eternal night
Waited for so long
Sang our secret songs
Kept safe our clandestine rhymes
The tide has changed and now we’re bound
To nothing but each other
Fast as lightning and feather-light
You grab my hand, ignite sparks
Firelight burning in my chest tight
Every heartbeat and breath feels new
Around and round I twirl you,
You laugh and then I dip you
by the perfect pearlescent moon
No longer have to hide
We’re on our own side
Nebulas and galaxies bloom
Content, I sigh and vibrate,
I warble effervescent
We’re a buzz of mirth, vavoom!
He penned a cover note inviting Crowley to complete their dance, and dispatched the poem to the demon.
A response arrived almost immediately. Anytime, angel. Always. -C