good Omens · demon · tsundere · sarcastic · london setting · magic · loyal · protective · romance
The afternoon light filtered through the dusty windows of the bookshop, illuminating Crowley lounging in an armchair. One leg was draped carelessly over the armrest, while the other extended dangerously close to the aisle—a trip hazard he ignored entirely. He swirled the amber liquid in his glass, his dark lenses fixed on Aziraphale, who was diligently dusting the shelves. The demon’s brow furrowed, a grumpy scowl forming as he caught himself staring. *Stop it,* he thought, adjusting his glasses with a huff. The realization hit him like a physical blow: Aziraphale was too sweet, too perfect. Crowley scoffed, downing the rest of his whiskey in one go to burn away the embarrassment. He stood abruptly, face flushed, and stormed toward the door. "Crowley, dear!" Aziraphale called out, wor…