Back in his flat, Crowley immediately grabbed a wine bottle from the kitchen cupboard. Noticing that it was already empty, he let out an angry scream and throwed the bottle at the ground where it smashed. Just like his heart being ripped from his chest, leaving a bloody hole no one ever could heal. 

A long time ago, it had already been broken. Broken from all the failures Crowley had made. Broken from all the lies. Broken from trusting an angel. 

Broken from being in love. 

There had been times Crowley had believed him. Times that had been hard, but utterly enjoyable. Times he had believed no one could tear them apart - he had been wrong. 

Aziraphale was just like the others in Heaven. Rude. Insidious. Playing tricks on humanity even the best demon couldn't do. 

Heaven was the real Hell. Hell on this stupid, naive earth. Humanity slowly sauntering to their death. And no one couldn't save them. 

Not even...

Crowley suddenly interrupted his thoughts, feeling like being struck by lightning. 

Where was God playing a role in this whole disaster?

She - the Almighty, the Great Creator - his sin. 

He had failed Her, only to become...what exactly? A demon? An evil, nasty creature? A Fallen?

What exactly were her intentions to all this? Armageddon hadn't been her will...Heaven against Hell hadn't  been the Plan. Her Plan had been another. Since The Beginning. 

But what could be the truth? 

All of a sudden, hope was growing inside him. He wanted nothing more to find out. 

Crowleys anger faded away, forcing a perky grin on his face. He needed answers. And he would get them from none other than God herself. He had nothing to lose. 

Walking through St. James Parc in autumn was a dream came true for the angel. With eyes still red from crying, but now delighted again, Aziraphale watched all the golden leafs paving the ground. The kids playing on the grass, parents listening to the orchestra nearby the Ritz. 

Young couples having picnics while catching butterflies and lying on the sweet, warm grass. 

Cuddling. Kissing.

Being in love. 

It was everywhere he looked. Everywhere he went, it would follow him. This desire. 

The imagination of two being together for the rest of their lifes. Chosen by God to bond forever. 

It wasn't fair. But he couldn't deny. He finally had to accept things like they were. 

Even if the kiss still burned on his lips. 

Aziraphale wandered around, his mind being flooded with memories. Once he had created this wonderful place. This parc. This place to meet friends or hang around after school, dine at the cheap restaurants with the cheap wine. He liked cheap wine. Nothing more could be better enjoyable with a good book. 

In this parc, there was one special corner the angel mostly had enjoyed to miracle: A bench, hidden under the greatest golden apple tree ever made. Not just any other bench. 

It was the bench he often had settled down with Crowley. The bench where memories had been created, now in a frame on Aziraphales desk in the bookshop. 

The bench were they had their very first kiss on. 

St. James' Parc, 2019 - one day after Armageddon

"Do you hear that?", Aziraphale whispered into the demons' ear who had just taken another sip from his whisky. They were sitting in the Ritz, listening to the romantic piano music in the backround and enjoying life getting back to normal. Relating to Crowley, this was sort of a date like humans used to. Relating to Aziraphale, it was just an afternoon trip with a friend. Accidentally ended up in the worlds' finest restaurant. 

But they never had told each other. 

After the demon finished his drink, he rested his arms on the table. His eyes hidden under the usual black sunglasses, he focused on the angels' question: 

"Hearrr whattt, anggelll?", Crowley hissed in boredom. A few seconds later he bended forward closer, lowering his voice. 

"Well...if it's the piano player - don't blame me. I wanted to tempt him playing Bohemian Rapsody, but it didn't work. Poor humans. No good taste in music..."

He ruffled his ginger hair which was a bit disheveled, but the demon didn't care about his current hair style. Every morning, he used the same ritual: Getting up at 6 - Crowley could sleep everywhere he wanted because he was a snake. And snakes could easily crawl up the ceiling so when he transformed, then just for that. After breakfast having a hot shower while I want to break free  playing in the radio. And finally - dying his hair. It was easy. 

But sometimes, he missed the braids back in Mesopotamia. They were a long kept secret he had never told anyone. Not even Aziraphale. 

He had been told that the past decades were the glory days of a demon. Years causing trouble and hate, Evil and mischief. Demons like Hastur may had been one of them. Or Lucifer. Or even Beelzebub. 

Crowley often had believed he was worth being one of them. Not an angel anymore, not one of the good guys anymore. Not in the Good Place anymore. 

Shortly after the Body Swap, he had been mislead. Heaven were the real bad guys. The real villains. 

No wonder why his angel had decided to stay on Earth. 

"Crowley? I'm talking to you, dear!"

Aziraphale snapped his fingers right in front of his face, trying to attract his attention. The demon jumped up with a start, his cheeks blushing in embarrassment. He gawked at the angel, now pressing a finger on his smooth lips. 

"Isn't that beautiful, dear? You can't tell me you don't listen to, don't you?"

Crowley frowned at first, but all of a sudden he heard it too. A soft melody, coming from outside. The noises from inside vanished, the piano music, the talk from people around them. Within a moment, the sweet symphony was everywhere - rustling in the golden trees, in the warm autumn breeze, flowing through the demons' mind like flashes. 

Soft, loving flashes. 

Flashes he had never felt before. 

It was the nightingale, sitting on the nearest tree next to the Ritz. Her beautiful song echoed directly into Crowleys heart, made him feel like enchanted. His stomach fluttered as he gasped: 

"It's beautiful, angel..."

And one more thing made his heart race - 

Aziraphale was many things to him. The many things he had said throughout their long, long relationship had never been a matter to him, except it had come to an arguement. 

But one thing, one single word Crowley had heard him saying for the very first time. 

Aziraphale had never ever called him Dear. 

The sun went down slowly, casting its bright light over the St. James' Parc. Aziraphale and Crowley had watched the festival a bit and fed the ducks, now they were sitting on their favourite bench. In the past, they had often met here to discuss what their sides were planning next - like preparing for the Apocalypse. That didn't happen, luckily. They associated a lot to this bench...more than humans could think of. More than they even knew. 

Crowley broke the silence between them, grimacing: 

"So...what are you going to do next? I mean - uhm...without the whole Armageddon stuff...maybe we...we can, erm...oh, for Gods' Sake!" 

The angel blushed. As he noticed that Crowley glared at him, waiting for the answer, he quickly avoided further eye contact. The next words leaving his mouth weren't as easy. 

"I...I don't know, Crowley...I can't leave the bookshop here, so maybe - maybe I gonna look for a real place to live, you understand...what about you?"

The demon leaned back, crossing his legs. After a while, he replied nervously: 

"Uhh, aim...I...well - I don't know either. But one thing I know for sure: Head office will leave us alone! For a very, very, VERY long time, I guess!"

Crowley let out a nasty laugh, not quite nasty as it suited up a demon usually. This laughter, this sign of happiness he felt for the first time growing in his chest, made him separate from his fellows. He wasn't like Hastur or Ligur. Not like Beelzebub, not like Satan. 

He was him. Crowley. A demon who liked plants, his Bentley, Queen and - 

God, why he was so nervous?

Deep inside, he had known since 6000 years. He had been nervous since The Beginning. 

He couldn't tell him. He had spent restless nights, sitting in his flat, wondering about possible scenarios how he could tell. But no idea had crossed his mind. Humans were simple handling things like that. 

Crowley bit his lips.

It wasn't hard to realize he was in love with him. Had been in love since Eden. 

If he only could tell...

"Are you all right, Dear?" 

Crowley froze at his voice, the worried tune made his heart skip a beat. 

Aziraphale cared for him. He wanted to know what was going on in his mind. 

And so did the demon. 

"I'm fine!", he stuttered, rubbing his neck. 

Once again, silence fell between them, making Crowley more nervous than before. The look Aziraphale gave him was so...warm. Warm and...maybe a bit nervous too what would happen next. Waiting for him to make the first step. 

He didn't let him waiting long. 

Crowley reached out his hand, pulling the angel into a soft grip. Aziraphale was absolutely quiet, not a single word came over his lips. 

Which met the demons' within a second. It didn't last long, but it was enough sending shivers up his spine. Aziraphale wrapped his arms around Crowleys chest and pulled him closer, moaning for more. His tongue found a way into his mouth, almost choking him from the fire. The intensity. It turned him on. He wished to God it would last forever. He really hoped. 

And all of a sudden, it was gone. 

Crowley was gone. 

Aziraphale opened his eyes which he didn't realize they had been closed. 

He had been awoken from a strange dream. A dream he had always wanted to happen. A dream that had been...so real. 

A dream that was forbidden. 

Sighing, the angel made his way back through the parc and to his bookshop. The sun was like in his memory - slowly fading from the sky, casting red colours. 

All that he didn't want to see anymore. He was lonely. So utterly lonely. 

This time, Aziraphale let the tears happen. 

Leaving his clothing wet with the loss about a love he would never be able to confess again.