Ineffable Omens (Crowley x Aziraphale)

As If Any Of Us Deserved Happiness

"Where are you going?" Aziraphale asked as Crowley untangled himself from him. They had been lounging in the library on one of the comfy sofas Crowley had. Aziraphale had curled up with a good book he had found, and Crowley cuddled with him, reading over his shoulder whenever the book seemed mildly interesting. 

"I'm going to make us some tea, angel," Crowley said.

"Aren't you forgetting something?" Aziraphale asked, looking up at him with big doe eyes.

Crowley grinned and bent down, planting a kiss on the angel's cheek before hurrying out to the kitchen, the hidden door to the library sliding closed. He hummed softly as he put the kettle on the stove, which automatically lit itself. He practically danced around the kitchen, gathering a plate of biscuits for the two of them, and then prepping teas once the water was hot. Aziraphale liked a good chamomile, but Crowley knew chamomile was for weaklings, and he himself fancied black teas—black like his soul. Although his soul was closer to chamomile than he thought. 

All of a sudden, he felt something wash over him, like the waves of the ocean lapping softly at the shore. He didn't know it was, just a tingly sensation that came and passed, leaving him confused. He blinked several times, staring at the two mugs. What kind of idiot was he, fixing himself two beverages? And since when did he drink chamomile. He rolled his eyes and brushed the green tea off the counter, letting the mug smash against the floor and spray freshly steeped tea everywhere. Chanomile was for weaklings. He took his black tea and returned to his study to plan his demonic deeds for the day.

Sorry it's been a bit since my last update, and I'm sorry this one is so short, but it took me a bit to figure out where I wanted to go with the story. I'll try to update quickly so I don't leave this cliffhanger. Kudos to all of you who know what's happening.