Serpent's Eden

Disaster

Ezra Fell

Ezra and Anthony had been texting each other back and forth for weeks now. They talked about everything and had even started getting to know each other better. Anthony asked for advice on his novels, Ezra provided and gushed about his favorites.

All seemed to be well. Until this week. Ezra hadn't heard from his friend since Sunday. Today was Wednesday.

He texted him every day but got no response. So, instead, he texted Anathema.

"Have you heard from Crowley? I talked to him on Sunday but he hasn't responded to any of my texts since."

Anathema replied a few minutes later.

"Y'know, I haven't either. Last time I saw him was at the signing. He didn't look too good. I take it you two have been getting close?"

Ezra blushed at that.

"We've been talking, yes. Do you know his address? Perhaps we could go check on him together?"

If Anathema hadn't heard from Anthony either... Then something must be wrong.

"Yeah, we'll go over there. Pick you up in 20?"

He typed back a "yes" and began to get himself ready to go.

He needed to make sure Crowley was ok.

~~~

A.J Crowley

Crowley sat slumped against his bedroom wall. His bedroom was completely trashed, much like his current emotional and mental state. The radio played faintly in the background which he'd been ignoring up until now.

"On the day that you were born

The angels got together

And decided to create

A dream come true

So, they sprinkled moon dust in your hair of gold and starlight

In your eyes of blue"

A tear slipped down the author's cheek. It reminded him so much of Ezra. He'd only met him once but now he was all he could think about. Those eyes. That smile. That laugh. He'd never seen or heard anything like it. Like him.

Anthony Jaymes Crowley had never felt anything like this in his life. He didn't know how to handle it and he hated it! It frustrated him beyond words. He stood and moved to the bathroom to clean himself up, staring at himself, aghast, in the mirror.

Red, puffy, yellow-hazel eyes and tear-stained cheeks stared back at him, scarlet hair messy and unkempt. He ran his hands through his hair with a groan and started to clean himself and his apartment when he heard a knock at the door.

He considered ignoring it but decided against it, trudging to the door, dressed only in an old Queen t-shirt and his boxer shorts.

Standing on the other side of that door was none other than Ezra Fell. The very object of his frustrations (and affections). Behind him was Crowley's publisher and major annoyance number one, Anathema Device.

"U-Uh, hi.... Wasn't expecting you... U-Um, would you, uh, like to come in?"

He probably looked like Hell. And judging by the looks on both of their faces, he knew his assumptions were correct.

"Thank you." Ezra said politely as he stepped inside, Anathema at his heels.

"U-Uh, sorry about the mess... I, uh, wasn't expecting company." The author mumbled, trying to at least pick his upset plants off the floor. He'd heard of talking to plants from a program on the radio and thought it an excellent idea. Though talking was not what he did. Especially not this time.

Crowley had practically throttled them. And it wasn't even their fault this time.

"My dear, what the hell happened? It looks like a hurricane has come through." Ezra observed, looking around the destroyed apartment.

Crowley gave a nervous laugh. "Y-Yeah, it does. Um, j-just got frustrated with my manuscript is all."

Anathema raised a brow. "You've never gotten this "frustrated" before."

He shot her a look before excusing himself to go straighten up. The song continued to play softly in the background as he cleaned up, nearly forgetting that he had company.

"Is everything alright in there, dear?" Ezra called. "You've been in there for quite some time."

The author was snapped out of his reverie and brought back to the present once again.

"'M fine, Angel. Just straightening up." he mumbled. It sounded as though he were right outside the door.

"If you're sure." The bookseller sounded unsure, nervous. "Crowley, dear, it seems you could use some time out of the house. Would you like to go to a café, maybe? Get some coffee?"

"U-Uh, sure. The-The three of us or...?"

"I'll stay here!" Anathema called.

Crowley finally emerged from the bathroom. "You don't have to do that, Ana. We can go another time." He sighed.

"No, Crow. It's fine, really. You could use a break from your- ahem- manuscript." She gave Crowley a knowing look.

Crowley's mouth opened and closed a few times in a futile attempt at protest before sighing in defeat.

"I'll get my keys."