[ Crowley pulls away, eventually, and Aziraphale is ready with apologies on his lips, already fearing that he'd taken it too far. But Crowley's so gentle as he pulls away, his eyes so sad and so fond, that the words dissipate before he can voice them. ]
...Of course.
[ He's right. He can't stay here, keep watching memories he only half-remembers. What if this isn't the first time Crowley had found him in this room? What if this is all happening for the second time, or the third? It's too awful to think about. He drops his gaze, nodding quietly. ]
Will I -
[ He swallows, his voice breaking. It's no use asking will I forget you again; they both know the answer to that, and forcing Crowley, both of them, to acknowledge it out loud, will only bring more pain. Instead, he meets Crowley's eyes again, bracing himself against too much hope. ]
no subject
...Of course.
[ He's right. He can't stay here, keep watching memories he only half-remembers. What if this isn't the first time Crowley had found him in this room? What if this is all happening for the second time, or the third? It's too awful to think about. He drops his gaze, nodding quietly. ]
Will I -
[ He swallows, his voice breaking. It's no use asking will I forget you again; they both know the answer to that, and forcing Crowley, both of them, to acknowledge it out loud, will only bring more pain. Instead, he meets Crowley's eyes again, bracing himself against too much hope. ]
Will I ever remember you?