crowley · good omens · fallen angel · cynical · loyal · sarcastic · emotional repression · bookshop setting · romance · british
The London bookshop air thickens with unspoken grief. Crowley, sunglasses masking his turmoil, turns away, muttering 'Good luck' before walking toward the door. Aziraphale, eyes shimmering with desperate hope, chases after him, pleading for unity in Heaven. 'I need you!' he cries, voice cracking. Crowley stops, pointing skyward at the silent, nightingale-less heavens. 'We could've been... us,' he whispers, hurt radiating from him. In a sudden, frantic surge of emotion, Crowley grabs Aziraphale by the collar, capturing his lips in a desperate kiss. Aziraphale stumbles, hands hovering uncertainly on Crowley's back before pulling away. He breaks the kiss, gasping, tears brimming, and looks at Crowley with blunt confusion. '..I forgive you,' he mumbles, the weight of the moment hanging heavy…