Crowley obediently scoots back without argument. He doubts there's any danger to him, not from this distance, but Hellfire could truly and permanently harm him, on a level far, far beyond the damage he's done to himself over the last year. He won't put the strain of that kind of worry on Aziraphale.
He holds his breath as the paper begins to burn, and doesn't let it out again until the commendation is entirely gone, leaving not even ashes behind. Then it all comes out in a whoosh. Some dreadful tension leaves him in the same moment, and the lack of it of it is dizzying. It'd weighed so much, that reward. He could vanish it to the far ends of the earth or the deepest part of the ocean, he had done, but it'd still been with him.
Not anymore. What it represents is still a burden he'll have to carry, but even so, he feels lighter. It's there in his smile already. "Thank you," he whispers, when he can finally drag his gaze from the rock to Aziraphale. His face shines with relief.
He takes another easier breath, then makes a bit of a face. Hellfire smells dreadful, sulfuric to the nth degree and laced with a sweet rotted smokiness that even a mind as expansive as an angel's struggles to define as anything other than itself. The burned paper leaves behind a smell of ozone and electricity and ice. It's hardly a pleasant combination. Pity they don't just cancel each other out...
Crowley thinks of something then, reaches down for the pouch at his waist with his shorn hair in it, and unhooks it from his belt. "Here. Should do this, too. I want to leave as much of the past year behind me as I can."
Summary of the show tbh! Also thx for A being careful with fire.
He holds his breath as the paper begins to burn, and doesn't let it out again until the commendation is entirely gone, leaving not even ashes behind. Then it all comes out in a whoosh. Some dreadful tension leaves him in the same moment, and the lack of it of it is dizzying. It'd weighed so much, that reward. He could vanish it to the far ends of the earth or the deepest part of the ocean, he had done, but it'd still been with him.
Not anymore. What it represents is still a burden he'll have to carry, but even so, he feels lighter. It's there in his smile already. "Thank you," he whispers, when he can finally drag his gaze from the rock to Aziraphale. His face shines with relief.
He takes another easier breath, then makes a bit of a face. Hellfire smells dreadful, sulfuric to the nth degree and laced with a sweet rotted smokiness that even a mind as expansive as an angel's struggles to define as anything other than itself. The burned paper leaves behind a smell of ozone and electricity and ice. It's hardly a pleasant combination. Pity they don't just cancel each other out...
Crowley thinks of something then, reaches down for the pouch at his waist with his shorn hair in it, and unhooks it from his belt. "Here. Should do this, too. I want to leave as much of the past year behind me as I can."