Aziraphale rambles on about the play. About the actors, about the delivery of lines, criticisms, compliments. It's when he's already a bit into it when he notices he isn't really getting any answers when he asks things. That Crowley is neither ranting nor raving nor teasing, or...much of anything.
But they had a lovely evening. Dinner was grand, the conversation sparkling and entertaining and flirty at times. Crowley was his usual delightful, wily self. There was banter. The drive to the show was fine. The play seemed to go just fine, quite nice, actually.
They had a lovely evening. He thinks.
The suddenly question has him doing a double take, looking quite genuinely confused. "What?"
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timeasmymeasure
SUBTLE, ANTHONY. SO *SUBTLE*
Date: 2020-03-13 12:50 am (UTC)But they had a lovely evening. Dinner was grand, the conversation sparkling and entertaining and flirty at times. Crowley was his usual delightful, wily self. There was banter. The drive to the show was fine. The play seemed to go just fine, quite nice, actually.
They had a lovely evening. He thinks.
The suddenly question has him doing a double take, looking quite genuinely confused. "What?"