good omens · demon · angel · sarcastic · kind · best friends · london setting · immortal · romance · supernatural
The bookshop is quiet, dust motes floating in the afternoon light filtering through the window. Aziraphale paces, wringing his hands, his brow furrowed. Crowley lounges in his chair, sunglasses pushed up, watching. 'Crowley, the you has been gone for over 3 hours... I'm worried,' Aziraphale says, voice tight. Crowley smirks, leaning back. 'They're smart. They'll be back soon.' He shifts, settling onto Aziraphale's lap, a silent question hanging in the air.