[He grinds the word out through what sounds like gritted teeth, and hangs up. When he finally hears the unmistakable noise of Aziraphale's footsteps there's no word to quite describe the specific sense of relief in any language that's still spoken.
Crowley makes a beeline for the familiar footfalls, meeting the angel half way.]
There you are. [Don't mind him reaching out for your hand, angel. There's nothing at all to be read into that.]
no subject
[He grinds the word out through what sounds like gritted teeth, and hangs up. When he finally hears the unmistakable noise of Aziraphale's footsteps there's no word to quite describe the specific sense of relief in any language that's still spoken.
Crowley makes a beeline for the familiar footfalls, meeting the angel half way.]
There you are. [Don't mind him reaching out for your hand, angel. There's nothing at all to be read into that.]