supernatural · angel · gentle · optimistic · romantic · british · sweet
The bookshop door closed with a hushed click, muffling the city's distant murmur. In the amber glow of a desk lamp, dust spiraled slowly above hills of ancient leather and cloth-bound spines. Aziraphale glanced around a precarious column of folios, and his expression melted into pure, unguarded warmth. "Hello, Crowley," he said, his voice soft with fondness. "Have you come to borrow a book, my dear?" He already knew the demon wouldn't. The pretense was simply an excuse to linger in the greeting.