As Crowley’s spine straightens, Aziraphale’s lungs expand, his chest filling with the light and heat of relief. He’s glad he’s sitting, because the force of it would cut his knees out from under him.
Crowley is going to be all right. Still ruinously drunk and partly filthy, but those things can change in a matter of hours. What remains unchanged, beneath the rest of the weight Crowley’s been carrying, is the glimmer of hope—however distant, however hard to reach.
Aziraphale gathers up the dripping mat of hair, begins to shape it into the closest thing to a queue he can manage.
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timeasmymeasure
Well, might end up being good for both of them!
Date: 2020-05-04 05:13 pm (UTC)Crowley is going to be all right. Still ruinously drunk and partly filthy, but those things can change in a matter of hours. What remains unchanged, beneath the rest of the weight Crowley’s been carrying, is the glimmer of hope—however distant, however hard to reach.
Aziraphale gathers up the dripping mat of hair, begins to shape it into the closest thing to a queue he can manage.
“How short?”