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It was a partly cloudy day. The sky, while not entirely overcast, was speckled with white clouds here and there, dotting London’s clear blue sky. The bustle along the streets was a sign that it was mid-afternoon, and people were either strolling about, enjoying their free time, or doing some last-minute shopping before heading home. The road was not particularly traffic-congested, yet the sound of car engines could be heard above everything else.
The figure of a tall, slender man stopped in front of a bookshop. One that once boasted a red façade with huge white letters announcing the owner’s name, but which now, as if it were a different reality, was blue—a complete contrast. Even the two huge white columns that had once supported part of the façade had vanished. A revamped appearance that bore no resemblance to what he believed to have seen before. However, he would swear that it was the first time he had ever passed by there. He stood still at the door for a few seconds before finally stepping forward, ready to go inside.
It had been years since the little-known astrophysicist Anthony Crowley had dared to venture there. He had lived a mundane life, as normal as could be. So it seemed, at least to outsiders or to anyone around him who knew him or had grown up with him.
His entire so-called short life had been a half-truth. One day he was just like anyone else, and the next he woke up to an infinity of memories so vivid he could not help but believe they were real. The other side of a coin he seemed to have always kept tucked away in some hidden pocket of his jacket. It took him a long time to come to terms with who he was, and why or how he had ended up there. It was not easy, but he faced this new reality unfolding before his eyes and emerged victorious.
Therefore, after months of reflection, Crowley stood before the building, confident that he might finally find the person he had been searching for. For far longer than he had initially realised.
He swallowed hard and pushed open the glass door to step inside. He was accompanied by the sound of a tinkling—bells announcing the arrival of a new customer. Crowley stopped at the entrance, instantly recognising the figure standing before him.
It was then that he felt the whole world swaying.
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‘You know, Lord. I… I do have a question,’ the angel said, approaching the Almighty, restless and hurt.
‘Ask it then,’ was the reply he received.
Aziraphale rubbed his hands, trying to hide the tremor that was ravaging his body. His eyes were filled with tears, and the lump in his throat was so tight it felt unbearable. Even so, he forced himself to speak, because if he did not do it then, he did not know if he would be able ever to do it. His heart could no longer bear to remain silent and hide his feelings. He wanted to say it—he had to say, or he would regret it for the rest of his existence.
‘Why… why give me Crowley?' he asked. He was so, so broken. He tried to hold back the tears, but he was unable to control them as well as he would have liked. In any case, none of that mattered anymore. He wanted to be honest with him. No, more importantly, he wanted Crowley—his demon—to hear him, even though at that moment Crowley was not looking directly at him. 'Why make me complete… and then take it away?’
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He remembered that confession as if it had happened just last week. Those were different times, a different era, in which his life and that of the person most important to him had been snatched away. He tried to pull himself together because he did not want to draw unwanted attention now that he was there. He was not even sure if the person standing before him was really ‘him.’
‘Uh, excuse me?’ he began, getting his attention.
‘Yes, can I help you?’
The clerk turned around, and indeed, the world—his world—came to a sudden halt before him. He might have looked slightly different, but his voice, his way of speaking, even his physique, were the same. He caught the first words he wanted to say in his throat, letting them die there. For the other man, if he did recognize him, gave no sign of it.
‘Uh, yeah, I was just passing, and I saw the shop. I was wondering, do you have any books on Astrophysics?’
What was he saying? He cursed himself for that being the first thing that came out of his mouth, and yet the mental block made him unable to say anything else. He had to talk to him no matter what—find out who that man was, what his story was, and what he was doing there.
He was led down a hallway, and they chatted briefly about inconsequential matters, a slip-up included. Only he, his angel, would be capable of doing something like that without realizing it. Crowley was wearing dark glasses to hide his ever-striking eyes, and this time he felt that this place—which years earlier had been one of his few safe havens—did not allow him to take them off so that the other man could see them. The man before him did not seem to be the one he remembered.
He took one of the books he was offered, feigning interest in it, and decided to leave, not without first giving him a sincere smile. Whether or not it was the angel who had lived and suffered so much with him, at least he was satisfied to have found out where he was. He paid what they asked for and left.
'I guess this was your last little joke, huh?'
He muttered to himself once he was out on the street, a bitter expression on his face. He couldn't tell what hurt more: having found Aziraphale, or the fact that Aziraphale neither remembered him nor had given any indication that he might. It was worse than the moment he had to face the fact that he was not even human. The truth hit him with a revelation that caught him completely off guard: he was a demon. Well, at least, something that in another life had been conceived as an evil being, a faction opposed to those considered good—which included Aziraphale. Nevertheless, even though he was one of the bad guys, and after a painful decision, he had chosen the fate of the universe and humanity over his own happiness.
Initially, he was convinced he was going mad and even considered seeking professional help, but those memories—growing ever clearer—made him realize it was not a product of his imagination. From that moment on, he began a desperate search for the one who had been his other half: Aziraphale.
He kept walking down the street, putting off any thoughts of how he would go about getting close to that man again. Suddenly, he heard footsteps running toward him.
‘Oi—I mean, excuse me, stop.’
The voice he knew so well made him stop in his tracks, turning toward him in astonishment. His heart began to pound.
‘Oh, sorry, did I leave something? Is everything okay?’ He was grateful to be an expert at lying, which allowed him to sound sincere and genuinely surprised by his sudden appearance.
Crowley looked at the book held out to him and shook his head. It seemed the conversation would last no more than a minute until the bookseller spoke up.
‘Would you—could you sign it for me?’ he asked in hope, after explaining that he had decided to buy it.
Crowley smiled, as he thought that this would be something he, his little angel, would be more than capable of doing. He decided to ask his name as he opened the book to the first page.
‘Fell… Asa Fell…’
Crowley looked up, his gaze meeting the other's for an instant. The coincidence struck him. No doubt a cruel joke that fate had played on him, just as when he was ‘born’ into that new life. Somehow, their names were there, concealed or embellished—surely by design—by that very force of destiny in which so many believed.
He searched his pockets for a pen he knew he did not have, until the blond man offered him his own. His hand trembled as he took it, but he did his best to hide it.
‘I need you to write your number down too, for me. So I can ask you to dinner,' the words tumbled out of the bookseller’s mouth, which made Crowley raise his head, increasingly curious. 'And… you’ll say no, and, um… but at least I’ll have asked.’
There it was again, a gaze so intense it seemed to see right through him. The blond rubbed his hands together nervously, just as Crowley had seen so many times before. A gesture so familiar it could have been the shadow of a memory. Was he supposed to be satisfied with that? Damn it, it was better than nothing. Maybe it was all he deserved—a final punishment for his misdeeds as a demon.
‘Um, I’m not going to give you my number,’ he began. Yet he was interrupted before he could continue.
‘No, no, no. Sorry.’
Crowley stared at him through his glasses, raising an eyebrow. The other man’s blue eyes dimmed as he rubbed his hands together once more, even more nervous. He smiled sheepishly and fixed his gaze on the floor, as if it were suddenly the most interesting thing in the world. It was a moment—just one—that made all the difference.
‘Oh, heavens, I can't believe I came up with something so cheesy. May the demons take me, Crowley…’
It was a whisper, a statement so low yet so laden with significance that he simply could not ignore it. Crowley extended an arm but left it there, raised in the air, without actually reaching out. A gesture so brazen that it heightened his interlocutor’s nerves.
‘I-I’m sorry, I didn’t mean that.’
‘Aziraphale?’
By the time he could regret it, the words were already out. His voice trembled, nothing like the one he had used during their meeting. Every time his face appeared in his mind, his world was filled with pain, bitterness, and terror at the thought of never seeing him again. He took a gamble—all or nothing—before he had a chance to think twice. Indeed, that name slipped from his thoughts before he could even stop it. Just when he thought he had taken a leap into the void, the response he received left him frozen.
‘Good heavens, is that really you, Crowley?’
The bookseller’s gaze filled with hope, a sparkle of emotion he knew all too well. That time, the world stopped again, but not just for him—for both of them. After all, the worst possible outcome, the one they had to accept for the greater good, might not have been so catastrophic after all. Perhaps they had been blessed with their desire to stay together, despite whatever consequences that might bring.
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‘We want you to create another universe,’ Aziraphale was the first of the two to speak, summoning all the calmness he could muster.
‘One without angels. Or demons,’ continued Crowley, with the same determination (but also terror) as the angel. 'No God. No Satan. A universe without a Heaven and without a Hell.’
‘No great plan, nothing ineffable. It just starts with a Big Bang and ends, billions of years later, with the Heat Death of the Universe.’
‘Or, you know, however it stops. Heat Death isn’t a dealbreaker.' added the demon. It was not as if they had had enough time to figure out exactly what the end would look like. Nor was it as if they cared, provided they accepted the terms of their request. They would not be there to experience it or witness it.
‘No…’
God looked at them, their eyebrows raised slightly. It might seem impossible, but judging by their reaction, it was clearly something that had slipped past their calculations.
‘You’re asking God to create a Godless universe? Neither of you could ever exist in such a universe, you understand?’
They understood perfectly well. Of all the choices they could have made—and even knowing that Aziraphale had chosen him over everything else this time—their decision was leading them to their doom, simply because they wanted to give the fleeting humans the freedom they believed they deserved. After countless years living among them, witnessing how they lived their lives and how they ended them, both he and Aziraphale were finally on the verge of finding happiness. And yet, he chose to stake everything on humanity. And his angel, with a smile heavy with sorrow, decided to respect and support his decision.
He exchanged a few words with Satan before turning his attention back to them.
‘You two fully comprehend the cost?’
Keeping his gaze fixed straight ahead, Crowley moved his hand slightly, just a few millimeters. It was enough to find the angel’s hand, who did the same without hesitation. Their fingers brushed against each other, first in a caress, then intertwined in a firm grip. A grip that would take something far stronger than them to break.
‘We know what we’re asking for,’ his voice trembled more than he would have liked. Still, he did not care.
Their bet was on that game in which, for once, they were both certain of losing.
‘Very well,’ God declared. ‘I’ll make it. I’ll make the Universe your way. I’ll even let an Earth happen. Eventually, there’ll be humans and life, in all of its mundane glory. Something that both of you will neither know or experience, though.’
‘That doesn’t matter,’ Aziraphale replied, a gentle but desolate smile playing on his lips.
‘Say goodbye then.’
Nothing else mattered anymore. There were no factions, no Heaven or Hell, no God or Satan. All that existed was the two of them, a demon and an angel who, after an eternity, had lived through countless events and adventures that had shaped them into what they were then. The proof that, beyond good and evil, there could have been a ‘us’ after all, just as Crowley had said back then. He remained serious, silent, not knowing what to say. His conscience was clear, even though he had chosen human goodness over the longing he had always held deep within his being—to find peace and tranquillity alongside his beloved angel. Aziraphale gave him a sorrowful smile, while he remained with an expression of pure desolation and sadness. Were his own lips even pouting? He did not care. His heart, once broken in the past by the one he considered his other half, was beating with difficulty, fearful and quiet, wondering what would happen next.
No words were needed. With the utmost care and tenderness, the angel brought his index and middle fingers to his lips, pressing them in a brief kiss that he did not dare to give directly. After all, he was neither brave enough nor bold or direct enough when it came to such displays of affection, which were so familiar and yet so strange to beings like them. Then, he reached out to bring them to the lips of his beloved demon, resting them upon the same spot. He did not hesitate, and he himself made sure to kiss a hand he would have longed to clasp forever and never let go. An indirect kiss that undoubtedly left him wanting more, but which he did not dare to criticise, given that this was how he had chosen to deliver it. His beloved angel, friend, companion, and lover—had they only had a little more time. His eyes had been brimming with tears for minutes, refusing to break down in tears when this might well be the last time they saw each other, breathed the same air, shared the same room. Ignoring the two other beings who were also present, he smiled at him, in that way he only ever did when it came to him. Attempting to cling to their pride by thinking ‘we’re doing the right thing’, even though their happiness would be utterly destroyed in the process. Aziraphale, his angel, gave him the same expression, just as broken as he was. Knowing that, this time, the goodbye really was forever.
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And there they were, 13.8 billion years later. Although they resembled their former selves, there were subtle differences in their hairstyles and colour that made them both themselves and yet not.
Crowley kept smiling, unable to wipe it off his face (nor did he really want to). They had sacrificed themselves for a greater good than their own, but what God had not told them was that they were part of their final game. He held out his hand to return the book, raising his eyebrows slightly.
‘I could never have imagined that you’d dare to take the first step and ask me out on a first date. Both in this life and the last,’ he tried to stifle a laugh, his eyebrows raised. Then the angel’s expression made him burst out laughing. ‘But it’s not bad. I actually like you being a bit embarrassed.’
‘What else could I possibly have done? The moment I saw you walk in, oh my goodness, Crowley, I couldn’t believe it was really you,’ He rubbed his hands together, his eyes filled with sorrow. He picked up the book and held it to his chest as if to embrace it. ‘I didn’t even know if I’d ever see you again, or if you’d remember… the past. I’ve spent all these years thinking I was mad.’
‘You weren’t the only one,’ he replied. ‘When I realised my own existence and what had happened, I… didn’t know what to do or how to find you. It was very confusing and complicated.’
‘And yet, thank goodness for that… Here we are again… Together…’ The angel’s voice and gaze were brimming with affection, love and sincerity. Something which, in the demon’s view, should never have been extinguished from his being. 'This time, neither man nor any other force will stand in our way. I shall not permit it, my… dear Crowley.'
The taller man smiled with the same sincerity as his angel. In their new life, in the fresh start they had been given, the paths of astrophysicist Anthony Crowley and bookseller Asa Phell had crossed once more. A destiny intertwined long before the creation itself, when what many would call the red thread of fate had been tightly wound around their fingers. Back then, a conversation had marked a turning point, one that now held more weight than ever. ‘Aren’t you very lonely?’ the angel had asked him, when Crowley told him that his actions were his sole responsibility and that he was on no one’s side. Something he had repeated later that same day when the angel believed he had become a fallen angel for lying to Gabriel. ‘If I do that, if I’m on my own side, it’ll be very… lonely.’ Now, in a world where neither angels nor demons existed, Aziraphale and Crowley were one of a kind. The only ones who had once been forced to choose their own side and who, now, the only ones left.
‘That is, of course, if I agree to that date,’ the redhead dared to joke boldly.
‘Crowley! You can’t do this to me… Not after t—’
‘I’ll pick you up when you’re off work, angel.’
He could tell he had left him speechless. The blond opened and closed his mouth without uttering a sound, as the blush spread across his face. He wanted to object, but held back, for his joy and excitement far outweighed the fact that the other was teasing him. He nodded firmly, thus sealing a promise he would never, under any circumstances, allow himself to break.
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Night had fallen and the cloudless sky offered a beautiful sea of stars for those who allowed themselves a little time to admire it from the South Downs. The atmosphere was calm and quiet, accompanied by a pleasant enough temperature that made it possible for anyone to be outdoors without needing to bundle up.
There, in a small cottage far from the hustle and bustle of the big cities, two men were enjoying their privacy and solitude while gazing at the sky stretching far beyond. At first glance, they might have seemed like ordinary people—a happy couple enjoying a well-deserved peaceful life. However, nothing could be further from the truth. They were so much more than that. Two souls who, after enduring too many encounters and just as many separations, could finally remain together without anything or anyone standing in their way.
‘Oh, look. A shooting star.’
Crowley arched an eyebrow, noting how his husband closed his eyes and fell silent. He rolled his eyes and settled back into the garden chair where they were both lying.
‘Technically, it’s… it’s a meteorite debris from Halley’s comet.’
‘Crowley!’ Aziraphale pouted, giving him a sad look. ‘I’m aware of that, but I’d like to make a wish,’ He closed his eyes again as if his life depended on it.
The redhead returned his attention to the stars. He needed no look at his partner to know he was smiling when he finished, proud of the effort. By no means would he be the one to shatter his angel’s illusion.
Bird chirping broke the silence around them, and amid laughter, they engaged in a brief conversation about the song of nightingales. A bird and a reference that had marked a turning point in their very essence. Perhaps that ending—side by side, with a ring on their fingers that bound them even closer, if that were possible—was the one they finally deserved.
‘Do you ever wonder if there’s anything more than this?’ Aziraphale suddenly asked, gazing at the Universe. God had been clear when they had accepted her conditions for a world without the need for their presence, yet both of them were still there, nonetheless. A doubt the angel sometimes still carried.
‘I don’t need anything more than this, angel,‘ he said without hesitation. 'I have the universe out there, and I have you,’ He could see out of the corner of his eye that Aziraphale was smiling. He reached for his hand to clasp it and tighten a grip he had no intention of letting go of any time soon. 'I have everything I’ve ever wanted.’
‘And, this time, no one is going to take it away from us,’ the angel concluded, still smiling.
For a moment, they gazed at each other, lost in one another’s eyes, convinced that their eyes were as dazzling as the millions of stars shining in the universe. Aziraphale shifted, leaning slightly toward Crowley to get his attention. Crowley looked at him curiously, but soon guessed his intentions. He could not help but smile to himself, thinking that, truth be told, he would never tire of those displays of affection that the angel, for the past few years, had dared to express without fear or shame. He could feel his other half’s breath on his lips, and he allowed himself to remain still so that the angel would be the one to seek contact. A small pleasure in life that he indulged in from time to time. He welcomed the kiss, a slow and tender one, nothing like the desperate one he had given him years earlier in his beloved bookstore. There was no fear, no insecurity, no bitterness in it, quite the opposite—he felt only love, longing, and hope.
A promise that, every time they kissed, would last until the end of time. That they—the angel Aziraphale and the demon Crowley—would be together for eternity.