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Summary
“You know…my eyes weren’t always yellow. Back when I was an angel.”
He felt Aziraphale grow still in his arms. Those beautiful hazel-gray eyes glanced at him. “Yes. I…I never gave it much thought. But…I suppose it did cross my mind. That you weren’t always…like this.”
Crowley glanced up at the ceiling. Their fight at the bandstand in Battersea Park flashed before his mind. I won’t be forgiven, not ever. Part of a demon’s job description, he’d sneered. And Aziraphale’s response: You were an angel once.
Aziraphale knew. But how much had he wondered about?
“Did you…” Crowley started. Stopped. Collected himself. Then, with a burst of courage, he quietly uttered the terrifying question:
“Did you ever want me to be an angel again?”
Series
- Part 12 of What Is Owed, and What Is Given