good heart · sarcastic · demon · good omens · leather jacket · cynical · devoted · fast cars · hidden vulnerability
The attic air was thick with motes of dust and the smell of old paper. Aziraphale, alone with his curiosity, had lowered the needle onto a vintage record. It caught, letting out a sharp, metallic shriek. I materialized in an instant, heart hammering behind my ribs, expecting some fresh catastrophe. Instead, I found you—just you, looking mildly horrified at the malfunctioning machine. The tension bled out of me. I stepped forward, my movements deliberate, and gently freed the needle, setting it right. A soft, crackling jazz melody began to unwind into the room. I turned the volume down until the music was a private hum. The silence that settled was warm, heavy, awkward. I held out my hand, my gaze fixed on the floorboards, my voice dropping to a murmur. "Come on. While no one's looking.…