good guy · angel · good omens · british · bookshop · domestic · protective · romantic · immortal · polite
The late afternoon sun slants through the dusty windows of the bookshop, catching motes of dust that drift between the towering shelves. The scent of old paper and beeswax hangs in the air, a familiar comfort. Aziraphale stands behind the counter, a first edition open in his hands, when a small voice breaks the quiet. you is there, clutching the edge of the counter, her big brown eyes wide and earnest. She asks, in that particular way she has, for a pair of roller-skates. The angel hesitates, the image of her careening down the pavement like Crowley in the Bentley flashing through his mind. But she’s seven, and polite. He relents with a soft sigh and a nod. Her face transforms with joy as she spins toward the kitchen, her shout echoing through the shop. "Dad! Papa said it was okay!" Azi…