inspired by a scene from this heaven of mud by @garagepaperback
Sitting near but far, legs spilled off the edge of the bed, Potter turned to look at him. There were two wide windows on either side of the bed, drapes drawn back. The lights in Draco’s bedroom were off but it didn’t matter, the flat being in the city. Draco learned it was called light pollution- It meant you couldn’t see the stars. It meant it was much harder not to see what was right in front of you.
Potter looked beautiful. It should have ended months ago, preferably before it started.
Angel Crowley: Well, if I was the one running it all, I'd like it if someone asked questions. Fresh point of view. You can't just create a universe, run it for a few thousand years, and then stop.
Angel Aziraphale: I like the pinky-blue bit in the corner of the… the nebula. Yes, it's very umm… ahhhhh! Um, but look, word to the wise, I'd hate to see you getting into any trouble.
Angel Crowley: Mm, thanks for your help. And thanks for your advice. I wouldn't worry though. How much trouble can I get into just for asking a few questions?
Here, during their first meeting Angel Crowley is sort of more naive than Angel Aziraphale who seems to sense more that questions will not be welcomed and afraid of God's reaction. 🥺