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“Almost done,” muttered Crowley to herself. The anticipation was clear in her voice.
She was currently standing in the bathroom, located upstairs, in the living space above the bookshop, doing the last check of her make-up. She spent the last half an hour fussing over it, either correcting the eyeliner, or comparing two very similar shades of lipstick, to figure which one would fit her better. The thought of simply miracling it in place crossed her mind multiple times, but something about the process of meticulously applying it on her own felt grounding, so she didn’t.
She stood there, her fiery red hair loose and resting on her shoulders. She was wearing a long, dark, navy blue dress that shone in the light like a midnight sky. It stretched to the floor, covering her legs completely if not for the cut on the side, and clung to her waist and her breasts, as if the tightness was the only thing holding it in place.
Crowley finally stretched, looked herself up and down in the mirror, and gave the reflection appreciative nod and a smile. Finally, her eyes rested on the jewellery box.
‘This is the last piece,’ she thought, slowly picking up a necklace out of it. It was a long, golden chain with a serpent-shaped pendant embedded with jewels. The lights reflected by them danced on the walls.
Crowley turned back towards the mirror, ready to put the necklace on, when the thought, sudden and unguarded, struck her. Her hands froze mid-air, and a mischievous smirk appeared on her face. She lowered her hands and turned towards the door.
“Angel,” she spoke as she entered the room, her voice melodic and coy. “Can you help me with this?” she asked, extending a hand with the necklace towards him, before he even looked at her.
“Of course, my dear. With what-?” Aziraphale’s words dissolved as he turned to look at Crowley. He glanced at what she was holding, then at her, fondness and understanding settling on his face. The angel stepped towards her at once, and with a delicate motion, took the trinket from her.
He stood behind her, close enough for her to feel his warmth against her back, but not close enough to touch. Then, his hand slowly gathered her hair to one side; his fingertips brushing the back of her neck just so slightly. The touch sent a tremor through Crowley’s body. Her breath hitched. Aziraphale let out a content hum behind her.
His fingers slowly put the golden chain around her neck, and every touch of his fingers on her skin felt electrifying. By the time Aziraphale was done and resting his hands on her shoulders, Crowley felt lightheaded and wondered if they actually had to go anywhere. Then, the softest touch; barely a brush of lips ghosted the back of her neck, as the angel placed a kiss on the bare skin. He was smiling.
“Come on, my darling,” he said, his voice smooth like ambrosia, the warmth of it prickling her ear. Crowley wanted nothing more than to melt into it, but Aziraphale had different plans. “We’ll be late for our dinner at the Ritz.”
He stepped back, moved towards the door, turned back to her and extended his hand, palm up, with a fond smile.
Crowley stared at him for a moment, still dazed; the heat that started building within her from that simple interaction, still burning hot. She was ready to abandon everything and pull the infuriatingly lovely angel in front of her close, to feel him. She wanted him to touch her, anywhere, everywhere, in any way he wanted. Right now, preferably. Instead, she blinked and looked into those beautiful eyes. The amount of love within them was threatening to knock her sideways. She glanced at his hand, then back at him, and let out a steadying breath.
She smiled and placed her hand in his.
There was no rush. They had an entire evening, after all.
