A crackling laughter is stuck in his throat, hard and sharp like shards of glass. Sometimes breathin
A crackling laughter is stuck in his throat, hard and sharp like shards of glass. Sometimes breathing hurts him so much that it feels like he’s choking on it, which is ridiculous, considering that he mustn’t breathe in the first place. It sits in his chest like a lump of ice, spreading from his chest, cold and hot and painful, and he couldn’t do much about it.Aziraphale sobs, just once, because he has already shed so many tears that he has the feeling he ran dry already. His finger clenches the steering wheel. The night, this whole nightmare feels so unbearably long, and the Bentley seems too small for him alone. He sits in the driver seat until his whole corporation is numb and his muscles ache, and he hears Queen until his ears bleed.Summary: After Crowley has kissed Aziraphale and vanished without an explanation, the angel doesn’t know how to deal with his sudden loss. He starts to indulge in sweet reminiscences (but in a completely unangelic way) when he receives unexpected visitors. Read the second chapter here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/32052745/chapters/80512795 ☕ You want to support me? I’m happy for every comment. But a coffee would be wonderful too :) https://ko-fi.com/elliehase ❤ And a huge thank you to my beta-reader @ineffableomenshusbands ( Dashicra ) ! -- source link
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