Good Omens Fanfic

Part One

Note; Not a continuous storyline. I might try out lots of different storyline every so often so you can just tell me what you like. I take requests and I'm often out of ideas so go ahead. I'm not expecting this to get any readers so I don't know what this little bit before's purpose is in life, but hey I don't know my own purpose so it's whatever. If somehow someone does read this first bit with the intentions of reading the story, apologies in advance for what you are about to read. It could be an abomination. Anyway, good luck, and thanks! 

Crowley glanced over at Aziraphale. The angel was innocently sitting in his chair (not that there is any other way for an angel to sit in a chair) reading a book. Crowley had always wondered how Aziraphale was able to just loose himself in a book, get swept up in this world of charterers that didn't exist. He imagined it was similar to what Ligur went through the time he decided to introduce him to Holby. Crowley quickly pushed the thought away. By Satan he was bored. The angel was lucky in that he did not have to search far for guaranteed entertainment, much unlike Crowley. Crowley was, in fact, so bored he even considered picking up a book himself, then came back round to his senses. It was like the 14th century all over again. 

If only Armageddon would threaten the world once more, then maybe Crowley could do something. Once all the wines are thwarted, then what was there for somebody like him to do? Aziraphale began to pick up upon Crowley's gaze, and shifted awkwardly in his chair. A few more minutes passed before Aziraphale finally spoke up.

"Crowley, surely you would have something better to do than watch me slouch around here all day!" He exclaimed. Crowley shook himself away from his deep thoughts.

"Angel, I am so bored... it's like the 14th century all over again. Shall we destroy the world, you know, so we can have something to do?" Crowley replied. Aziraphale looked at him in shock, and even dissapointment. 

"Angel, I'm joking."

"Still, Crowley..."

Crowley rolled his eyes and slumped back into his chair. He closed his eyes, then soon began to drift into a deep thought process. He thought about anything and everything, except...

Well, except one topic he had been purposefully avoiding. 

Aziraphale.

He didn't even know why he was avoiding it, just something.... something wouldn't let him think about the angel, the angel that sat so close yet seemed so far. 

Crowley began to get frustrated with going over the same boring topics, and opened his eyes. He saw Aziraphale delicately placing his book back on the shelf, then move towards the small stove to make himself tea. Crowley was enthralled by each gentle movement performed by the small man, watching as if it were a ballet. Aziraphale seemed to be dancing, at least, in Crowley's mind, each movement was a dance in itself. Aziraphale caught Crowley's eye, forcing him to glance away.

Crowley sat quietly. 

He realised now why he was avoiding thinking about Aziraphale.

He only wished he could have avoided it for longer. 

If only. 

"Crowley, dear, are you quite alright? You've gone white as a sheet!" said Aziraphale, carrying a tea tray over.

"Wha- Ye-Yes, Angel, I'm fine, honestly. What could possibly be wrong? I'm really... fine... I'm, uh, tickety boo!" murmured Crowley, trying to sound as convincing as possible. And yet, despite his best efforts, he could tell the angel was not in the slightest convinced.

He thanked God (a rare thing to do, for a demon, at least) that angels were unable to read minds. 

Well, what was on Crowley's mind, you may ask?

Is it not obvious?

It was obvious enough to Crowley. Yes, very obvious. 

Crowley had finally admitted something to himself he'd been waiting 6000 years to admit.

He. Loved. Aziraphale.

So, there ya'll go! That was just sort of an idea of what my writing's like beacause if people don't like it I mean I probably shouldn't bother because like I mean I (don't) have better things to do.

this was an abomination I'm sorry