And it's Aziraphale's heart's turn to skip, as he closes his eyes, as he forgets everything that's out there, bring existance down to this single room, this moment, the two of them.
It might not be the first kiss. It will certainly not be the last, if he has anything to say about it. But something about it feels truly special. Truly definitive. The words in it, them sitting down, the angel's metaphorical foot forward. The recognition and the promise with it.
He doesn't count the time. He refuses to. He just wants to stay - in the right here, in the right now. In the making up for all that dreadful business. The last few hours. The last few months. The centuries of admiration. The not going fast enough.
He welcomes the demon back into the love in his heart, in his soul. It's there for him, if he wants it. Love, and gratitude, and admiration. Promises. It's all there.
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It might not be the first kiss. It will certainly not be the last, if he has anything to say about it. But something about it feels truly special. Truly definitive. The words in it, them sitting down, the angel's metaphorical foot forward. The recognition and the promise with it.
He doesn't count the time. He refuses to. He just wants to stay - in the right here, in the right now. In the making up for all that dreadful business. The last few hours. The last few months. The centuries of admiration. The not going fast enough.
He welcomes the demon back into the love in his heart, in his soul. It's there for him, if he wants it. Love, and gratitude, and admiration. Promises. It's all there.