[ Painful things had happened during the Second World War, things that didn’t really bear thinking about. Seeing Aziraphale towards the beginning of it had been the bright spot in an otherwise terrible, awful slog of years which had put a point to the abhorrent things humans could do to one another, demonic influence barely necessary. Crowley didn’t want to think about them, though since the war was at the forefront of his most recent memories of Earth, it was hard to get away from. It was easy enough to get oneself discorporated in the middle of all that violence, if one wasn’t careful enough, and towards the end he hadn’t been.
He found nearly a decade had passed when he finally managed to get himself back to Earth. Not so long in the grand scheme of things, but a depressingly long time to spend Below with no better company that Hastur and Ligur and, on more unpleasant occasions, Beelzebub. It didn’t surprise him, really, to find himself outside of the bookshop, rather soon after he’d gotten back. He would have wanted to see Aziraphale even under the best of circumstances, which these certainly weren’t. It was always disconcerting, coming back, trying to catch up on everything you’d missed.
His hard knock on the door finally caught attention from within; Crowley wasn’t sure if Aziraphale had opened the shop a day since the 1700s. ]
Hello, Aziraphale.
[ He wanted to think of something quippy to say, but it wasn’t coming to mind. Crowley was aware he was letting the doorjam take most of his weight, as though a step one way or the other would result in collapse. ]
Yeah, yeah, all’s fine. Do you have anything to drink?
no subject
He found nearly a decade had passed when he finally managed to get himself back to Earth. Not so long in the grand scheme of things, but a depressingly long time to spend Below with no better company that Hastur and Ligur and, on more unpleasant occasions, Beelzebub. It didn’t surprise him, really, to find himself outside of the bookshop, rather soon after he’d gotten back. He would have wanted to see Aziraphale even under the best of circumstances, which these certainly weren’t. It was always disconcerting, coming back, trying to catch up on everything you’d missed.
His hard knock on the door finally caught attention from within; Crowley wasn’t sure if Aziraphale had opened the shop a day since the 1700s. ]
Hello, Aziraphale.
[ He wanted to think of something quippy to say, but it wasn’t coming to mind. Crowley was aware he was letting the doorjam take most of his weight, as though a step one way or the other would result in collapse. ]
Yeah, yeah, all’s fine. Do you have anything to drink?