[ Aziraphale, of course, has no real way of knowing that they've done this before, that five minutes from now he'll look at Crowley's face and not know it. But his mind is racing anyway, as if desperate to outrun an invisible ticking clock. After all, if he were capable of retaining this, wouldn't Crowley have come to him and explained before? Wouldn't he have tried, even if Aziraphale had refused to listen?
His heart aches, as he looks at the pained expression on Crowley's face, as the enormity of it all settles over him. His entire lifetime had been rewritten, and he'd had no idea. And Crowley -
Crowley speaks, explains the only way he can, and Aziraphale's breath catches in his throat. There had been only the one note, but the little surprises hadn't stopped. Meals paid for him in advance, complete with personalized wine recommendations. Books in plain brown packaging, awaiting him on his doorstep. Mercury there the moment he needed her; he'd never quite been able to shake the feeling that she was connected in some way to his secret admirer. He'd all but given up on ever discovering the mysterious Antonio's identity. But now this. This. It's simultaneously the most romantic and the worst thing that's ever happened to him. It's like something out of a book, too perfect and heartbreaking to possibly be true. ]
My Antonio.
[ And there it is, all the warmth and affection, all the love that's been missing when he says Crowley's voice. He moves closer still, heedless of Crowley's hesitation, and brings his hands up to hover half an inch from his face, trembling, not quite daring to touch. ]
I forgot you. I forgot you completely, and you - you found a way to look after me anyway.
[ His eyes are suddenly bright with tears, fixed unerringly on Crowley's face. ]
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His heart aches, as he looks at the pained expression on Crowley's face, as the enormity of it all settles over him. His entire lifetime had been rewritten, and he'd had no idea. And Crowley -
Crowley speaks, explains the only way he can, and Aziraphale's breath catches in his throat. There had been only the one note, but the little surprises hadn't stopped. Meals paid for him in advance, complete with personalized wine recommendations. Books in plain brown packaging, awaiting him on his doorstep. Mercury there the moment he needed her; he'd never quite been able to shake the feeling that she was connected in some way to his secret admirer. He'd all but given up on ever discovering the mysterious Antonio's identity. But now this. This. It's simultaneously the most romantic and the worst thing that's ever happened to him. It's like something out of a book, too perfect and heartbreaking to possibly be true. ]
My Antonio.
[ And there it is, all the warmth and affection, all the love that's been missing when he says Crowley's voice. He moves closer still, heedless of Crowley's hesitation, and brings his hands up to hover half an inch from his face, trembling, not quite daring to touch. ]
I forgot you. I forgot you completely, and you - you found a way to look after me anyway.
[ His eyes are suddenly bright with tears, fixed unerringly on Crowley's face. ]
Oh, my dear. I'm so sorry.