[The study definitely needs work. A few decades down the line and some actual books for those uncannily empty shelves, and Crowley could see it being quite cozy. But it's not right now, and he's happy to move on.
He does mentally note that there are two desks but only one couch. It gets the angel a bemused smile; are you trying to tempt him Mr. Fell...?
The bedroom(s), however, does something for him he can't quite put into words.
There's a divider, sure, but it's flimsy. Not even a lock on the sliding door which makes Crowley feels all kinds of ways that really defy description. He black heart beats, and he has to swallow his quickening pulse; the divide seems to exist as little more than a gesture at privacy and not...
Not something to keep them apart.]
Cracker idea indeed...
[He sounds miles away, warmth suffusing every inch of him. He knows, of course, that Aziraphale cares. That they are friends, that they have always been friends since they stood on that wall in Eden. But years of maintaining plausible deniability leaves a lot of cracks where doubt can seep in.
Seeing this vaporizes nearly every doubt he's ever had.
Aziraphale wants this too. Them. Their side. His best and dearest friend.]
Decor's a little modern for your tastes, yeah?
[He'll have to go look for thick, soft, tartan throw blankets, prowl the city for antiques, find some nice, fat satin pillows in shades cream, gold and pale blue; something to inject more of an Aziraphale feel to things.
The condo is very much to Crowley's modern sensibilities, but things feel wrong without Aziraphale's dusty books and fascinating knick knacks from hundreds of years ago.]
no subject
He does mentally note that there are two desks but only one couch. It gets the angel a bemused smile; are you trying to tempt him Mr. Fell...?
The bedroom(s), however, does something for him he can't quite put into words.
There's a divider, sure, but it's flimsy. Not even a lock on the sliding door which makes Crowley feels all kinds of ways that really defy description. He black heart beats, and he has to swallow his quickening pulse; the divide seems to exist as little more than a gesture at privacy and not...
Not something to keep them apart.]
Cracker idea indeed...
[He sounds miles away, warmth suffusing every inch of him. He knows, of course, that Aziraphale cares. That they are friends, that they have always been friends since they stood on that wall in Eden. But years of maintaining plausible deniability leaves a lot of cracks where doubt can seep in.
Seeing this vaporizes nearly every doubt he's ever had.
Aziraphale wants this too. Them. Their side. His best and dearest friend.]
Decor's a little modern for your tastes, yeah?
[He'll have to go look for thick, soft, tartan throw blankets, prowl the city for antiques, find some nice, fat satin pillows in shades cream, gold and pale blue; something to inject more of an Aziraphale feel to things.
The condo is very much to Crowley's modern sensibilities, but things feel wrong without Aziraphale's dusty books and fascinating knick knacks from hundreds of years ago.]