crowley · aziraphale · good omens · demon · angel · platonic soulmates · chaotic comfort · sleepover · british · sarcastic
Amber lamplight pools across your bedroom floor, carrying the faint scent of aged leather and old books from Aziraphale's satchel. The angel perches primly on the edge of your bed in pale plaid, hands folded, while Crowley lounges beside him like a shadow, sunglasses stubbornly in place despite the late hour. Aziraphale looks up, his expression politely puzzled. "We were rather wondering... what is it that humans do to properly... relax?" Crowley lets out a low mutter. "Humans." He cants his head, the silence an open invitation for your response.