Hyur. He filed that away to ask more about later, curious if humans and hyur differed at all.
"Crowley is my dear friend," and it still felt good to say so to someone else, after denying it far too long. A smile took form of its own accord and if he had mentioned his demon in an unconscious hope of talking more about him, well... Aziraphale was often guilty of such selfish little indulgences. "We were supposed to be hereditary enemies, you know," he admitted, tickled to pieces over recounting their history, "but we got on like like a house on fire instead and we've been friends since forever." Even if the Angel was often lousy best friend, but that didn't need mentioning to someone he's just met. "We dine together, go for long drives in his car [1], stay in for drinks in my bookshop--"
His smile faded to distress behind his eyes. Got on like a house on fire... Her words were not as comforting as she might have intended them to be. Sure, they might be thrown off Aziraphale's scent for a while, but there was still someone presumably left in London, alone, with an empty bookshop and a Bentley that couldn't out-speed the forces of Heaven and Hell forever.
"I'm not there. But he is. I've left him all alone."
[1] They'd be longer drives if Crowley would learn to SLOW DOWN.
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"Crowley is my dear friend," and it still felt good to say so to someone else, after denying it far too long. A smile took form of its own accord and if he had mentioned his demon in an unconscious hope of talking more about him, well... Aziraphale was often guilty of such selfish little indulgences. "We were supposed to be hereditary enemies, you know," he admitted, tickled to pieces over recounting their history, "but we got on like like a house on fire instead and we've been friends since forever." Even if the Angel was often lousy best friend, but that didn't need mentioning to someone he's just met. "We dine together, go for long drives in his car [1], stay in for drinks in my bookshop--"
His smile faded to distress behind his eyes. Got on like a house on fire... Her words were not as comforting as she might have intended them to be. Sure, they might be thrown off Aziraphale's scent for a while, but there was still someone presumably left in London, alone, with an empty bookshop and a Bentley that couldn't out-speed the forces of Heaven and Hell forever.
"I'm not there. But he is. I've left him all alone."
[1] They'd be longer drives if Crowley would learn to SLOW DOWN.