Aziraphale watched as Crowley slipped back into his shop, the door slamming behind him. He shimmied himself further into the car's seat and looked around. Cars weren't really Aziraphale's thing, he'd been rather annoyed when the humans had invented them. They were noisy and polluting and went far too fast for the angel. But they made Crowley happy, and that was a rare thing.
The car was, safe to say, very clean. Crowley was ever so tidy: everything had it's proper place and nothing must be disturbed. Aziraphale was quite the opposite: he liked things a bit messed up, his bookshop was a fine display of that beautiful thing that was ordered chaos. Aziraphale opened up the passenger glove compartment and flicked through Crowley's extensive CD collection. CDs were another thing Aziraphale didn't see the point in, he preferred live music: orchestras and operas. He was about to close the compartment when something caught his eye, something bright white. Crowley hated anything bright or slightly lighter than black, even grey made him uncomfortable. He reached in, past the cigarette packets and odd pairs of sunglasses and felt his hand close down upon something cold and metallic. Aziraphale pulled it out and turned it over in his hand: a pair of white wings had been indented into the metal, the whole thing was a perfect oval that hung on a thin silver chain. His fingers came to rest upon the small button at the top of the pendant. He knew he shouldn't open it, this was Crowley's and therefore it was private and personal, he had no right to look through it. But curiosity got the better of the angel, so he did as Crowley had always told him: he allowed himself to do one 'bad' thing and opened the locket.
Aziraphale let out a rather loud, very audible, gasp. Inside there lay a single lock of hair, tied together with a black ribbon. The hair was so blond that it was practically white and it curled so perfectly it hardly seemed real. Aziraphale recognised the hair within an instant for it was his own. The ribbon that held the cutting together was so dark in contrast that it barely seemed to be there at all, it was just a strip of black matter. This he also recognised, for it was a ribbon that he had wrapped around a first edition of Nostradamus he'd given to Crowley some months since. Crowley had kept it, he had kept it and treasured it enough to wrap it around a part of Aziraphale. Aziraphale wasn't sure how exactly the demon had come into possession of a lock of his hair but it hardly mattered to him now.
All he could do now was try and contain the pure joy he felt coursing through him. He bit his lip and hugged himself tightly, positively glowing with happiness. This didn't exactly mean that Crowley felt the same towards the angel that Aziraphale did to him, but it gave the angel hope that, one day, he and Crowley would be together as more than just friends.
☆Hey guys!!! I just wanted to say thank you all sooo much for 300 reads!! I honestly didn't think anyone would want to read this let alone 300 people!!
Also, this is kind of a two part chapter so I'll upload the second part tomorrow. (And yeahh idk the hair thing might seem kinda serial-killer-ish, but I think it's sweet!) Have a great day and I love you all!!☆