Crowley and Aziraphale share the drive to Edinburgh. Reassurances are had, questions are asked, and accounts are revealed.
“Shall I continue?” Crowley drawled, adjusting his sunglasses like they held any prescriptive value, like he was preparing to read something far more serious than a £3 petrol station romance novel.
“Must you?” Aziraphale muttered, which Crowley ignored.
“‘Okay,’ I whispered,” Crowley stage-whispered, feeling a little bit gross about it himself, “‘He glared at me, his dark brown eyes narrowed, and I felt like I might melt under the intensity of his gaze. I took a deep breath in through my nose and immediately regretted the decision, because he smelled incredible.’”
“You’re having me on,” Aziraphale said severely.
This little dude is really cool🙏🙏🙏so I animated him😎i really like this dude👍is a stinker but at the end of the day we all are🙏 it's also April so it only made sense to make this☺
Thank you @c4nt-sl33p for motivating me threw the whole process 🥹