Title: Susurrant
Characters: Crowley, Aziraphale

The park was different at sunset. At first, Aziraphale thought it was the wind, turning vicious and unrelenting and cold. Then he thought it was the ducks, huddling by the heated lakeshore with their heads tucked under their wings and ignoring the spongy clumps of bread floating inches away. Eventually, though, he found it was the scarlet — hard-edged and seeping into every corner, painting the landscape with strokes of fire and leaving shadows twisted oddly in its wake.

‘S’like the end of the world,’ he heard Crowley say, and he felt the hand at his waist curl closer and a tired laugh slide along his ear.

Aziraphale’s voice trembled like the leaves around him when he spoke.

‘No,’ he said. ‘Not at all.’

☆

AWWWW? ISA YOU FANGIRL HAHAHAHAHA.

Right, so I was pounding away madly at our literature review, when I heard this string of muffled and vaguely pugilistic shouts coming from outside my window. Being the nosy ever curious person I am, I peeked out and... witnessed three big white guys chasing their widdle escaped doggie woggie around the jogging path bushes. AHAHAHA FAIL.