Misc.

multiverse something 4

The Oxford English Dictionary defines the word /warmth/ as "An excited or fervent state of the feelings; strength or glow of feeling; fervent or vehement character (of an expression, welcome, salute, etc.); ardour, enthusiasm; cordiality, heartiness.", and that is exactly what filled the atmosphere of the Berlin bookshop on one fateful night in the dead January winter. 

 Thick, wet snowflakes tumbled gently from the sky, landing peacefully outside, carefully piling on top of one another, blanketing the world in a silent blanket of white, the streets silent and empty.Lights flickered inside apartments and some of the few shops that were still open near the hour of midnight.A.Z. Fell Antiquarische und Ungewöhnliche Bücher was closed, but the lights still shone inside, the people within happy as ever, dancing and laughing. 

 There was, going back to our aforementioned word, a very warm atmosphere within the shop, with little yellow lights turned on, and a fire crackling in the small stove Aziraphale kept in the small kitchen area at the back. A record player sung quiet songs into the air and the Emcee slow danced with Miles, their foreheads together, arms draped lazily over each others shoulders. In the back room, an angel and a demon held hands, glancing shyly at the floor before Crowley gently kissed Aziraphale, savouring the moment. 

 It was like a scene from a snowglobe, except a scene in a snowglobe is immortalized. It will always be there, the same, unchanging. The lovers will always hold hands, and people will always slow dance within the small plastic walls of the little fake house. In reality, everything was about to change.As the guests trickled out that night, Aziraphale hugged them extra tight, wishing them safe, safe travels home.Crowley said goodbye to the Emcee, pressing a kiss to their cheek, before giving them a tight hug, a hand cradling their head for just a moment, breathing in the smell of cigarette smoke, liquor and setting powder one last time.A few tears slid down Aziraphale's cheeks and Miles wiped them away with thumb, smiling. 

 "Gosh, why are you being so silly, we'll come round again." they said. 

 "Oh dear, I'm so sorry, I suppose I'm just so grateful to know you." the angel replied, dabbing his eyes with a clean white cloth. Em took his free hand and frowned a bit. 

 "Herr Fell, we owe our lives to you, I do hope we will stay in touch long enough to repay that."Aziraphale pulled Em close, for a hug, smiling through sad tears. 

 "My dear, you don't owe us a thing." he said after pulling back. 

 Aziraphale and Crowley watched the pair leave the bookshop, heading down the street, laughing softly together hand in hand, going back home to sleep safely together under the warm soft covers.The doors of the quaint store locked and the angel sobbed into the demons chest. 

 --- 

 The next morning, Em yawned and got out of bed, stumbling over to the bathroom. The shower provided a warm spray of water that Em melted under, wishing they could go back to sleep for just a few more minutes. They recalled the previous night.After the show they'd all gone out for drinks, them, Miles, Cliff and Sally. They frowned, unable to remember where exactly they'd gone. They only remembered the feeling of warmth that had spread through their chest as they sipped their drink and watched Miles dance the night away with Sally. Perhaps they'd had a little /too/ much to drink, and that was why they couldn't recall the details. 

 As they started on breakfast at the stove, Miles came over and hugged them from behind. 

 "Do you remember what happened last night?" she asked, swaying Em back and forth a little bit. 

 "Hmm a little bit, why?" 

 "I can't seem to remember where we got those drinks. They were delightful and I'd love to go back, only I can't recall where." 

 "Funny, I can't remember either. I think we both had one too many." they teased, going back to the bacon that was sizzling aggressively in the pan. 

 Yet, that evening, both Cliff and Sally asked Em the same question, to which Em gave the same response. After the show, they walked out of the Klub and started heading down the right way of the street. Miles caught their hand and gently tugged them in the other direction. 

 "Darling, the apartment is this way." he giggled a little bit. 

 "But we always go right." Em frowned, glancing down the street. 

 "That's the long way home, come along, mother's cold and would like to go to bed." Miles insisted. 

 The next day both of them were off work and Em leashed the dogs up to take them for a walk, curious to know why they had had such a strange pull to go in the wrong direction the previous night. Come to think of it, they'd never gone down that way after work, they always went straight home after a show.  The dogs trotted along happily, bounding in the drifts of snow along the sidewalks. Em walked past the Klub, much less appealing in the daylight with all the lights off and whatnot. 

 The long way home. They supposed they would take that route then, just to peak at what was over there. 

 At the end of the street, across the road, was a small burgundy shop, with gold painted pillars.Em made a confused face and went over, feeling like they'd been there before, though they knew they'd never seen the place in their life.Pressing their face up to the glass proved to be futile, finding the interior empty of anything at all. Blank walls and dusty wooden floors with no lights in it whatsoever.No, they'd never been there in their life. 

 Yet, walking away from the place they couldn't shake the estranged feeling that permeated their chest. At home, Em hung up their coat, letting the dog out of its harness, sitting on the couch, thinking about what was going on. Miles came out of the bedroom, dressed for the day, holding up a thick cream coloured fisherman's sweater. 

 "Em darling, is this yours? I found it in your dresser, I've never seen it before."Her roommate vaguely recognized it as their own, getting up and taking it from her. 

 "That one...yes it's mine. It was uh.." they had to think now. How on earth did they get that sweater again. It was much too big for them, and Em typically got relatively well fitted clothes. For a split second, a memory flashed through their head, being out in the cold, someone picking them up, holding them. 

"Uh, a gift...I suppose." they assumed, taking the sweater and holding it out in front of them. 

 "Alright then." Miles shrugged, going back to cleaning up the bedroom. Em frowned again, pressing the shirt up to their face and smelling it, finding it to smell like freshly brewed tea, books, and something sweet they couldn't quite pinpoint. Feelings of warmth bubbled to the surface of their, safety, protection, care, like a sunken ship with boxes of cargo that remain bobbing in the water, waiting for someone to come and pick them up, and understand what happened. 

 Suddenly, the Emcee felt drowned by the horrible feeling that they'd lost something dreadfully important to them, and they couldn't figure out what. They collapsed on the couch and cried, trying to understand.But they never would.