𝕮𝖗𝖔𝖜𝖑𝖊𝖞

It's getting quite late, Aziraphale had mentioned before. And what will they do? Certainly not sleep. Maybe eat the sushi that Crowley froze in time for them. Then, what? Sit there and not talk about what they're not talking about? Maybe lie on the bed and wait for morning, wait for the next wave of trouble to follow them? Drink, maybe? Crowley could sit, stare at Aziraphale, and long for what they almost have right now?

Aziraphale is literally in his arms right now. Right now. And if Crowley can't do anything about it now, when will they ever? Another thousand years? Another six? If they even make it that long.

"Oh, fuck it." he mutters, and he leans in to kiss Aziraphale again.