Nostalgic

Nostalgia

Here comes the HURT, I warned ya

They have stuck together like peas and carrots. Crowley and Aziraphale kept their promises and never left each other sides. They went back to Greece and finally had those Oysters that Crowley was missing out on, they went back to movies (Redboxed Cars 3 and the Demon would not stop imitating Owen Wilson) and when they weren't going places they were hanging out. Crowley would crash at the bookstore, slither between a few shelves, and stare at his beautiful angel as he read. In turn, Aziraphale would sometimes cradle him in his snake form and give Crowley a warm place to wrap up. Crowley was having a ball of a time, he thought that throughout all the centuries that he and the Angel stalked the Earth this had to be some of the best. However, Both seemed a tad not good, though Armageddon had been avoided, they lived in constant fear of retaliation from Heaven and Hell. Crowley wondered when Beezelbub would what to go for round two, knowing her, she wouldn't be satisfied till he was wadding in the fields of Asphodel with the rest of the damned. The idea of dying, or worse, Aziraphale dying, disturbed him greatly. Crowley began to put up walls to distance himself from Aziraphale in case he did end up leaving it. Of course, the kissed, they watched stupid films together, but Crowley began to take it with a grain of salt.

One day Crowley tempted Aziraphale to lunch near the Thames and snuck outside for a smoke while he left the Angel to his Cucumber sandwiches. He'd never was a smoker. Even though he did consider himself pretty into it during the 1900s when the trend popped up and he did blame himself for its popularity, he never smoked as a relaxor like he started doing in the recent weeks. Crowley leaned up against a wall outside the little sandwich shop when a dreadful smell started to come from the water of the river. At first, he figured some bloke had a vape pen full of shit but as he got off the wall to investigate the water, the odor got stronger and the feeling of hatred became almost palatable in the mist. He knew this scene. Flies began to fly off the surface of the Thames and a short person began to ripple out of the water in front of him.

"Beezelbub, " Crowley spoke horsely in the horror that his worsed fears had come true. "Out of - out of the drink are ya?", To escape looking weak he'd always buried whatever it was in something more intimidating like violence or throw pillow. However, he feared he lost his edge after snogging an Angel for days on end so humor was his next best defense.  

"Well I can say you too aren't a sight for sore eyes, but it looks like we've both been damned." The demon lord tried to match his sarcasm but she was always anything but funny. Beezelbub miracled herself out of the water and leaned against the spot on the wall Crowley was before. "I can say that even though you and our master have been at odds for the past couple months now, you've been doing his job pretty well." The flies followed their lords and Crowley had to swat away a few attracted to his smoke.

"Doing his work? Are you thick?" Crowley was confused. To him, he was doing the opposite. Fluffy blankets and hot cocoa every week wasn't exactly what he thought Satan did lowkey. "You lying sack of flies." He stomped out his cigarette bud and started to walk inside. Then the hatred in the air baked and Crowley found it almost impossible to get out of his head.

"He's fell from grace you know," she motioned inside the sandwich shop, "I bet Cerberus' tail if Aziraphale tried to brandish his wings he couldn't. Probably pull out a few feathery stumps if you checked them out." Crowley furrowed his brow. His pride was getting to him, he believed his Angel was the purest thing in all the cosmos. Sure Crowley knew Aziraphale wasn't always great all the time, his angel did almost kill the antichrist with a gun that launched bricks, but he was sure despite some of his diluted properties, he was a saint through and through. "You've fallen, both of you. It's pathetic, Crowley. I think if something sinister was to happen to him, you'd rather trade your horns for halos than find your 'angel' being tortured by brimstone. What you're doing to him, he'd probably like it. Wouldn't mind if I stole your boyfriend for a few? If he hasn't yet lost his wings I could surely pull them out for you- "

"Shut it, you mong, " Crowley snapped back. "Boil me in holy water or smelt salt into my eyes but you don't dare touch him. I'll fuck you up if you even think of breathing on him."

"Bet!" was all she said as the sandwich stop fucking exploded. 

"NO!!" Crowley didn't care if she was once a woman, he socked her right in the nose. Beezulbub hit the wall and staggered. The demon lord's eyes blazed and in a storm of flies, she vanished.

Crowley hit the ground running into the little shop. There was no smoke, no fire, just plaster and shards of glass everywhere, but it burned his heart to find no one was in the shop, no one alive.