Aziraphael doesn't notice he's still clutching tightly to the bracelet until he's fumbling for his key; the door swings open without it. He's distracted
( Read more... )
It's been quiet, up 'til now. The bar seemed muted, mostly, towards the end, and so too the late-night London traffic, the quiet home-sounds of the key, the lock, the latch.
Maybe that's why Aziraphael's prayer seems so loud. Or maybe it's hearing it after seeing past the door, seeing the sunlit path and the spring-summer woods.
In nomine Patris - not his - et Filii - not his - et Spiritus Sancti.
He almost whirls and slaps the angel; it astonishes him how close he comes, listening to the last blunt reminder of you shall not enter here.
It doesn't show, except in the clench of his jaw and the tightness of his hand around Aziraphael's. And it passes, as all things do.
He kicks off his shoes, and furls his wings, and goes to fold himself into a corner of the couch.
Aziraphael's not entirely oblivious. He knows he's upset Crowley, and he understands at least a part of the reason why, but he cannot change what he is. Nor would he care to.
And this ritual of boiling water and tea bags and calm and remembering - this ritual is a part of that too.
Comments 23
Maybe that's why Aziraphael's prayer seems so loud. Or maybe it's hearing it after seeing past the door, seeing the sunlit path and the spring-summer woods.
In nomine Patris - not his - et Filii - not his - et Spiritus Sancti.
He almost whirls and slaps the angel; it astonishes him how close he comes, listening to the last blunt reminder of you shall not enter here.
It doesn't show, except in the clench of his jaw and the tightness of his hand around Aziraphael's. And it passes, as all things do.
He kicks off his shoes, and furls his wings, and goes to fold himself into a corner of the couch.
Reply
And this ritual of boiling water and tea bags and calm and remembering - this ritual is a part of that too.
He leans around the door.
"Tea?"
Reply
A non-committal sound that, in anyone with half an ounce of manners, would mean 'yes, please'.
After a moment:
"Have we any chamomile?"
Reply
"There's pure chamomile, or with spiced apple, spearmint, or honey and vanilla if you're so inclined."
There's silence in the kitchen for a moment or two, 'though he doesn't reappear. Then the sounds of movement again, and an overly casual voice.
"Tired?"
He's absolutely not worrying. Not at all.
Reply
Leave a comment