My Angel 《Crowley x Aziraphale: Good Omens》

Feather

Crowley was busy in the bookshop, oblivious to the fact that the angel that was sat in his car, had gone through his things, and found the locket.

Crowley had never meant for anyone to ever find that. He had purchased said locket during the 1910’s solely for the purpose of holding Aziraphale’s hair. The actual lock of the angel’s hair had been a little harder to come by and was technically an ‘accident’. Crowley had walked Aziraphale home from the Ritz (it was in 1906, a few months after the hotel had first opened), Aziraphale had invited him in and then had subsequently fallen asleep over a glass of wine. Crowley, being still madly in love with the angel, practically discorporated at the sight of a sleeping Aziraphale, who tended to purr slightly during deep sleep. He had carried Aziraphale to his bed, tucked him in and then gotten an idea. He had been feeling slightly down at the fact that he could never tell Aziraphale how he felt, how he knew he would never be able to touch the angel or call him his own. So when this idea popped into his head, it seemed like the best way for Crowley to get a piece of Aziraphale all for himself. He had tiptoed to the bathroom, taken some scissors from the cabinet and carefully cut off a single platinum curl that was sticking out from the rest, he’d kissed Aziraphale’s forehead lightly and left. It wasn’t until he got home that he realised he had nowhere to put it but, only a few years later, he had bought the locket and had it specially engraved. Crowley felt slightly guilty at this 'betrayal' of the angel, as he had taken something from him without asking but it was no use worrying now, he could hardly put it back, could he?

And so it had remained a secret...until about 2 minutes ago.

Crowley had moved through the main shop and was now walking up the backstairs to the second floor where Aziraphale lived. It smelt so sweet up there: like lavender and new books - like Aziraphale. He wandered into Aziraphale’s bedroom, it had been a long time since he’d been in here but he’d never forgotten it. Aziraphale’s room was just as messy as the rest of the shop, books lay in piles everywhere as there was no more room on the shelves, his bed was unmade and his pyjamas lay strewn on bottom of it. Crowley shuddered slightly, how could someone live in such chaos?! He went over to the bed and began to make it, making beds was second hand to him. Aziraphale’s bed was very different to Crowley’s – whose was large and had black silk sheets – Aziraphale’s was quite snug, he had a thick duvet, a knitted blanket and...books. After making the bed, Crowley picked up the pyjamas (they were long and cotton, with a white tartan print) and placed them gently into a duffle bag. He opened the angel's wardrobe and picked out a few different outfits, they were all very white so Crowley had no real idea what he was doing, and placed them into the bag as well. “Books....” he muttered to himself, scanning the shelves. He had no idea what Aziraphale would want to read, all of Crowley’s own books were on medieval torture methods, spells, and home brewing- vodka, of course. He moved over to the bedside table and picked up the five books that were sat there but one slipped off the pile as he was placing them in the bag. “What the fu...?” Crowley trailed off, as he picked up the book and something black and sharp fluttered out of it: a feather. One of Crowley’s feathers...and Aziraphale was using it as a bookmark.

Crowley felt his cold heart warm slightly in a way that only Aziraphale ever managed to do. The angel had put a part of Crowley inside of one of his favourite things in the world: a book. Crowley couldn’t speak, he felt a tingling sensation in his stomach and hugged the book tightly, sliding down onto the floor. “Oh angel...” he sighed, almost breathless, placing the feather in it's correct place and standing up. “You’re gonna kill me one of these days".  Crowley wandered back downstairs with the duffel bag and several unwashed hot chocolate stained mugs in his hands.

But as he strolled back to the Bentley, locking up the shop as he went, neither he nor the angel could have known that a new kind of silent bond had formed between them. Both had found proof that the other was thinking of them, even when they were apart, and although they didn’t know it yet, the desires that had haunted them for 6000 years would soon be fulfilled in more ways than one.

☆okay...I know it's been longer than I said it would but....ehhh I don't actually have any excuse I'm just a lazy person (sorry!!!)
Sooo it's getting closer to the 'events'. I'm not sure how many more chapters I'm going to do but I know how I'm gonna end it...I think
Thanks for reading so far though, it means so much (I know I waffle on, oops)
Love you all!!☆