Well, That Was A Thing (Good Omens One-Shots)

10; Cake, Wine & Letters

'Are you two friends?' Yes.
'Are you together?' Yes.
'Do you love him?' Yes.

Whichever you want, I will say 'yes'. I will say 'yes' and mean it because I love you and I am done treating you so poorly. I just hope you can accept my apology. Even if you don't, please tell me... I hope to hear from you again soon.

Yours, as ever,

Aziraphale.

The angel was on autopilot, his hand shaking as he moved the quill-pen away from the paper. After making sure the ink dried properly, he folded it neatly and placed it in an envelope. He melted some wax, let it drip over the flap, then pressed his stamp onto it, sealing it.

The blond let out a shuttering breath before he placed the written confession against his lips. Doubts quickly filled his mind and anxiety had a stranglehold on him now. Before letting fear win yet again, he snapped his fingers and the letter disappeared from his hands. His equivalent to hitting 'send' on a risky text message and running away from the phone.

Aziraphale leaned back against his chair, a sigh of relief left his lips as he glanced at their portraits atop the table. July cannot come fast enough...

~~~~~

Crowley's POV:

"Goodnight, angel." The demon said before he hung up.

So much for that. The one person who I thought would make this a bit more tolerable doesn't even want me around. I shouldn't be surprised, 'slither over and watch you eat cake'? What the fuck was I thinking? Ugh, and that was my tongue sober! Had I started drinking like I planned, Satan only knows what would've come out of my mouth!

He decided to go torment the flora for a bit before his nap. If he was going to be unconscious for two whole months, he needed his plants to behave in his absence. Or, at the very least, come up with a way for them to not die until he woke up. He briefly considered tempting a neighbor into doing it. After all, it wouldn't be to look after the whole flat, they would only have to go into the indoor garden and the kitchen. His bedroom door would be locked and, as far as his past roommates and sleeping companions had told him, he didn't snore, which would make it easier for remaining undisturbed.

The demon sauntered into the kitchen to fetch himself something drinkable. He had originally planned on getting a glass but changed his mind, opting to drink straight from the bottle while sitting (if his chosen position could even be considered sitting) on his throne and going through social media.

It was ten minutes into this, and halfway through the bottle of wine, that he felt his skin pepper with goosebumps. A chill went down his spine and the hairs on the back of his neck stood with a warm rush. It was a familiar sensation, one he had grown used to over millennia: Aziraphale's miracles. Once he looked up from the phone's screen, his eyes found the source.

A letter lay in the middle of his desk, pristine white envelope, the wax seal being the only color on it. Crowley's eyes focused on it, quickly noting the stamp's design: a flaming sword etched onto the dark wax. As he moved it, a very obvious scent emitted from it. Well, obvious to him and his heightened senses.

Yup, definitely from Aziraphale. Green wax, not red, so it isn't anything official he needs to corroborate with me before sending it to Head Office...

As part of The Arrangement, this had been something very common between them, to avoid getting caught. Of course, this no longer applied, but the alcohol hadn't let him think straight for a moment. He slipped out the letter to see why the angel felt the need to write instead of calling him again. The scent became stronger once it was out of the envelope.