“Inspiration takes many forms,” he says, as if pronouncing a minor blessing. “And I’ve had something of an ongoing masterclass in being sneaky.”
Though there is no greater pleasure in this brave new world they’re making than not having to be sneaky. She’s been writing messages on him with her touch, I see you, I see us, and I love what I’m seeing, but even in the dark of a theatre they don’t have to hide.
Aziraphale leans a little closer, gaze trailing over the sharp contours of her face like a caress.
“And speaking of inspiration.” His voice has dropped to a conspiratorial tone, soft and measured as if he’s reading poetry. “I’ve had an idea. Would you be willing to accompany me outside, for a breath of fresh air?”
(If he’s honest, the idea has occurred to him before—cold winter air to roll over their desire-flushed faces. The sensory contrast is delightful even to think about, and an easy way of heightening the experience for both of them. And, of course, no one will notice them.)
All right, brace for serious (and highly affectionate) filth. >:D
Though there is no greater pleasure in this brave new world they’re making than not having to be sneaky. She’s been writing messages on him with her touch, I see you, I see us, and I love what I’m seeing, but even in the dark of a theatre they don’t have to hide.
Aziraphale leans a little closer, gaze trailing over the sharp contours of her face like a caress.
“And speaking of inspiration.” His voice has dropped to a conspiratorial tone, soft and measured as if he’s reading poetry. “I’ve had an idea. Would you be willing to accompany me outside, for a breath of fresh air?”
(If he’s honest, the idea has occurred to him before—cold winter air to roll over their desire-flushed faces. The sensory contrast is delightful even to think about, and an easy way of heightening the experience for both of them. And, of course, no one will notice them.)