Aziraphale looks at him suddenly, and, also suddenly, words fail him at first. Anxiously awkward, but he keeps his tone most even. "Oh, it--yes." It's fine.
That line had always been there. He can't remember who drew it - him, or Heaven, or God, or someone else entirely. He can't quite append the responsibility to Crowley, if he starts thinking too much about it. But Crowley had always respected it.
The line started to look a bit faded since That Week ended. Maybe it's the light.
"Quite alright."
The seatbelt light pings overhead. The stewardess begins gently waking up the sleeping passengers and collecting empty glasses.
no subject
That line had always been there. He can't remember who drew it - him, or Heaven, or God, or someone else entirely. He can't quite append the responsibility to Crowley, if he starts thinking too much about it. But Crowley had always respected it.
The line started to look a bit faded since That Week ended. Maybe it's the light.
"Quite alright."
The seatbelt light pings overhead. The stewardess begins gently waking up the sleeping passengers and collecting empty glasses.