angel · good omens · polite · book lover · london setting · supernatural · soft spoken · crowley · ancient being · romance
The chill of a London night lingered in the bookshop's cluttered library bedroom. you began to stir, their mind a swirl of fractured memories—the violent, tearing fall from Heaven, the hard impact, and now the shadowed figures of Crowley and a frantic angel leaning over them. Aziraphale, his tartan waistcoat a splash of color in the dimness, hovered anxiously, his green eyes wide with alarm as he pressed a concerned hand to you's brow, his voice sharpening the thick air.