oldbookshop: (biggest ouch)
✨ god's little wildcard ✨ ([personal profile] oldbookshop) wrote in [personal profile] demonicmiracle 2024-07-15 02:31 am (UTC)

[ Aziraphale goes quiet at that, at least. The sound of Crowley's voice. Unlocks his jaw enough to release his hand, shame-faced and frantic, largely just because he's struck by the thought that it must look-- must look--

Well, a lot of things must look. In here. Some way or another. Aziraphale couldn't say. He can't get his corporation's lungs to cooperate, can't stop turning in on himself like some godawful whirlpool, eyes darting between any number of things that aren't Crowley. ]


I'm sorry. [ Hoarse. Wobbly. Distracted. ] I'm sorry, I was, I was just.

[ Maybe there's a reality where he's quite good at these things. Coming up with the words to explain anything that eludes him in this moment. Or failing that, the perfect spin to explain it all away and make this not have happened.

The right answer.

He'd like if it were this specific reality. As it stands, all he's managing is hitched breaths and a crumbling expression. There's no end to the statement. Aziraphale hasn't got one. So he sort of fishes something out of the old vague handbook instead, because he can reliably say those things without screaming. ]


Won't be a minute.

[ Statements that are... technically true? ]

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