His angel - Crowley x Aziraphale - GOOD OMENS ONE SHOT

His Angel - ONE SHOT

-Crowley POV-

With a swift kick, I opened the door to your bookstore like I had so many times before.

"For Satan's sake Angel, can't you pick up your phone? I found that Nutter's prophecy. So we can-" I announced, unbothered by any potential customers in the shop. Not that there are any, ever, anyway.

But this time it was different – I was struck by a wave of heat as I entered the store. Fire had spread all around the room, encompassing every map, every token, every book.

The fire was already quite warm to me, so I could imagine how it would feel to someone who wasn't used to the warmth of hell. I was used to it of course, but earthly humans and items can't withstand enormous heat, much less fire, as I had learned over the years.

"Angel?" I asked into the space. Fire flaring and crackling around me, I couldn't quite place which sounds were produced by a human's hand and which weren't.

I looked around to try and find out the cause for the fire. Surely you didn't purposefully set your own property on fire; according to hyou the books were the only thing that brought you joy these days. Well, apart from food and alcohol of course.

A big whiff of fire whipped my way, striking me across the face. It felt merely like a scratch; any human would have suffered severe burns. Or – an angel.

I began to worry, as I journeyed further into the shop, constantly calling your name. I knew that earthly fire couldn't kill you, but it could seriously injure you. To my knowledge, even more than it could with humans. Angels have a ridiculously low tolerance for heat, fire or flame.

To kill an angel, he would have to burn in hellfire of course. But the human bodies we were given for planet earth were a lot easier to destruct.

"Azirophale? Please, are you here???" I screamed, running up the spiral staircase that was placed in the middle of the store.

I reached upstairs, the heat of the metal from the bannister still underneath my palms. The fire had already spread over both floors, slowly destroying every book that had been so carefully placed in the shelves.

It made me think about the countless times I had to help you set up the store, screwing together flatback furniture or picking out the right colors for the walls. Your passion for books had never made sense to me; still it was sad to see it all literally go up in flames.

Evidently, you weren't in this store and as I was just about to leave, I remembered how you always used to tell me about important prophecy books you kept hidden in the office.

I didn't want to give it much thought, but maybe retrieving the books and saving them from the fire could be a good way to apologize.

Only a couple days ago we had gotten into a massive fight, because he still can't see that we work well with each other. He doesn't recognize that there is something other between us than just heaven and hell, good and evil, black and white.

Armageddon was upon us, all I was proposing to him was that we spend our last days before the doom, before we had to fight each, together on Alpha Centauri. Just the two of us, like old times sake.

It pains me sometimes, knowing that I clearly don't mean as much to you as you mean to me. That is because you still have the century-old bias in your head that a demon and angel could never be close to each other. Not that either of our departments would care; they haven't cared for the past 6000 years.

But you seemed to cling onto your beliefs and refuse to change like I do, which has gotten us into more and more fights over the last centuries. Eventually, culminating in the fight we had last week, where you told me that you didn't ever want to see me again.