Date: 2019-08-25 08:09 pm (UTC)
salutosinedelectat: Sad, talking, serious (Hate right now)
Oh, Crowley.

Aziraphale sees all of this. Hears all of this, feels all of this, and it's almost overwhelming. Almost, if only because they're facing it together, now, wordlessly but openly, and it's there. It's there, and they can't keep it down anymore.

It would be an utter lie to say that Aziraphale hadn't noticed. Of course he had. It was hanging between them, had been for decades or even more, the angel doing his best to act like he didn't see it. He couldn't. He shouldn't.

But here it is, and it's a trade. It has to be, he owes him that much. And he's afraid, still, but he tries, for all the things he couldn't say that night, those nights since there stopped being a reason.

For all the times he didn't take the risk.

He shows him, shows him how he feels. His appreciation. His fondness, his admiration. His guilt and regret from times gone past. He's sorry, so sorry, but all the times he walked away.

They say demons can't feel love. That's a lie, he thinks. Certainly here, it is, for they are not that different. So he shows him, he tries, from the purest, deepest part of him.

He loves him, and he has. And he's sorry he's taken this long.
This account has disabled anonymous posting.
If you don't have an account you can create one now.
HTML doesn't work in the subject.
More info about formatting

Profile

sauntered_downward: (Default)
𝕮𝖗𝖔𝖜𝖑𝖊𝖞

January 2020

S M T W T F S
   1234
567891011
12131415161718
19 202122232425
262728293031 

Style Credit

Expand Cut Tags

No cut tags
Page generated Jun. 14th, 2025 06:34 am
Powered by Dreamwidth Studios