[ Ah, yes, divine will. Crowley's sure that God had Her hand in it, just as Aziraphale is, moving all the little pieces around on the gameboard in accordance with Her plan. But why must it be such a cruel plan? Does She really want Her creation behaving in such ways to one another? He wishes he could ask sometimes.
Aziraphale sitting so close makes him think of simply tipping to the side and letting his head rest against the angel's shoulder. He might just do it, after another drink or so. ]
Yeah? What's the usual then?
[ It would be nice, he thinks, just to hear Aziraphale talk. Even if it's about utterly mundane things, puttering around with his books and his shop or what delicious new dessert he's lately tried. Anything he had to say, Crowley would listen to. ]
Oh, angel. You shouldn't say that, it'll go to my head.
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Aziraphale sitting so close makes him think of simply tipping to the side and letting his head rest against the angel's shoulder. He might just do it, after another drink or so. ]
Yeah? What's the usual then?
[ It would be nice, he thinks, just to hear Aziraphale talk. Even if it's about utterly mundane things, puttering around with his books and his shop or what delicious new dessert he's lately tried. Anything he had to say, Crowley would listen to. ]
Oh, angel. You shouldn't say that, it'll go to my head.