Ineffable Husbands One Shots

Good Enough

~!~ Next part of the Good Omens Celebration :D Today's prompt was Past. This story turned out a little sad and messy, and I have like no confidence in it but I hope you like it anyway! ':) <3 ~!~

Aziraphale was going through all of his books and deciding which ones he'd be taking out of the shop to keep at his and Crowley's brand new cottage. It was a hard decision because he rather wanted to have all of them on hand as he had for the last few hundred years. But he knew he couldn't empty the bookshop if he wanted to keep it as he and Crowley had agreed.

And so, he was currently looking through every book he owned, placing some into boxes and some back on their shelves. It was taking him a while, especially since he kept getting distracted by reading short passages that quickly turned into long passages, which turned into chapters, which turned into entire books. Yesterday, he'd read seven books. Today, he'd only read two. It was an improvement, and he was proud of himself for his restraint.

Crowley was currently out getting them snacks from the new café in town. Aziraphale was trying particularly hard to stay on task when he knew the demon was not around to remind him that there would be other times for getting lost in a book.

To be quite honest it wasn't going as well as he'd like. He'd only sorted two books in the ten minutes Crowley had been gone. But he was determined to keep going.

He pulled a black book with golden embellishments off the shelf. Looking at it made him feel like there was something special about it that he should have known, but he couldn't quite put his finger on what it was.

He opened the cover to see if there was a note from the author or some other clue as to why his brain had marked this book as notable. An envelope slipped out from between the pages and landed on the floor.

"Well, there's the culprit," he murmured to himself before picking up the parcel.

The envelope was addressed to his bookshop with no return address, but the handwriting was unmistakable to Aziraphale. This letter was from Crowley.

He reverently opened the previously opened envelope and pulled out the contents. His heart was already fluttering at just the first word.

Angel,

I hope this letter finds you well. I write this correspondence today in view of the fact that I don't believe I thanked you for taking me to the ballet. It was quite enjoyable. I thought I should let you know that I am not opposed to doing something similar in the future. With you, of course. I would not go to a ballet alone; if I thought I would, I would have no need to be writing this letter. I digress. If you would be interested in doing it again, feel free to write to me.

Yours truly,

Crowley.

Aziraphale hugged the letter to his chest. This was indeed something outstanding, as he hadn't been able to save many letters from Crowley over the years due to fear of being found out. He had two others that he had reread many times; he didn't know how he'd forgotten about this one. But how exciting it was to find this historic treasure!

Aziraphale reread the letter. He beamed at the hopeful nature of the words.

He reread it again, this time noticing how wonderfully honest the words seemed. That had probably terrified and excited him at the time he'd received it.

He paused, wondering how he had responded. There was a time when he and Crowley wrote many, many letters to each other, he couldn't be expected to remember all of his replies. He racked his brain nonetheless.

He considered the ballets they'd gone to. Honestly, they hadn't gone to many compared to other theater events. Looking back on it now, perhaps they should have gone to more, especially if Crowley seemed to have such a liking for them.