[ For some reason it seems important to him that Aziraphale know this. They've relied on one another over the years, though they've had plenty of time apart as well, going a decade or more without seeing one another before the needs of their Arrangement bring them back together again. It's just that something seems to have changed recently, perhaps from the last time they met in the church; perhaps it was Crowley who changed, because some centuries or millennia ago he wouldn't have believed that he would walk willingly onto sacred ground to save anyone, any angel, even one who was his friend. But when the time came, it wasn’t anything that needed wrestling with, or even a moment’s consideration. Aziraphale needed him, and that was all.
As for the books, that was just because Crowley hated seeing him unhappy. ]
No, no, of course not. Not about to discorprate again, if that's what worries you. [ The wine glass in his hand is dangerously close to tipping over the arm of Aziraphale's chair. He must be looking rather pathetic, Crowley imagines. He was already a little ways towards drunk already, before he came here, but he swallows a deep gulp of the wine before speaking. ]
I hate Hell. Hated being back there. [ It's really not a nice place for anyone to have to spend a lot of time in, even a demon. ] But, you know, I thought of you. In this...your bookshop. [ He waves the glass around in his hand. ] Afraid it might be bombed in the war. You stayed safe?
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[ For some reason it seems important to him that Aziraphale know this. They've relied on one another over the years, though they've had plenty of time apart as well, going a decade or more without seeing one another before the needs of their Arrangement bring them back together again. It's just that something seems to have changed recently, perhaps from the last time they met in the church; perhaps it was Crowley who changed, because some centuries or millennia ago he wouldn't have believed that he would walk willingly onto sacred ground to save anyone, any angel, even one who was his friend. But when the time came, it wasn’t anything that needed wrestling with, or even a moment’s consideration. Aziraphale needed him, and that was all.
As for the books, that was just because Crowley hated seeing him unhappy. ]
No, no, of course not. Not about to discorprate again, if that's what worries you. [ The wine glass in his hand is dangerously close to tipping over the arm of Aziraphale's chair. He must be looking rather pathetic, Crowley imagines. He was already a little ways towards drunk already, before he came here, but he swallows a deep gulp of the wine before speaking. ]
I hate Hell. Hated being back there. [ It's really not a nice place for anyone to have to spend a lot of time in, even a demon. ] But, you know, I thought of you. In this...your bookshop. [ He waves the glass around in his hand. ] Afraid it might be bombed in the war. You stayed safe?