15

Chapter 15

As I got out of bed that morning I heard the sound of the shower still running in the bathroom downstairs. That must mean that he wasn't sleeping yet; maybe he hadn't slept at all.

For a brief moment I considered waking him up, but then I decided against it, not wanting to interrupt him as he was clearly struggling with what to do now that his sister had died. After he had found out about her death, he'd barely slept for almost a week and he had looked as awful and worn out as I had felt. He had spent most of the night sitting by the window, staring aimlessly into space as his thoughts ran wild. I knew that something else happened between them, however, and the fact that they had met each other again and that everything seemed to work out so perfectly. I had never seen him look so content. And I also noticed that I didn't see him as much anymore after her death. In fact, I had stopped spending much time at his place. He didn't like being interrupted when he was working, but I loved staying with him. I had grown used to him being there whenever I needed him to hold me during the day or tell me some interesting facts about plants (which he always did) or even just sit silently next to me as I ate breakfast in bed, or read a book together, or watched TV in silence, or cuddled into him as we lay quietly in bed until morning. He usually made breakfast; sometimes I'd eat with him and sometimes he'd go to the store and bring food back for us to eat. We both liked the peaceful quiet atmosphere and would often spend whole days simply lying in bed watching TV, talking and laughing and occasionally snuggling together; sometimes we would even go to movies or plays together if I felt like it. Of course, we'd usually end up leaving early and going for an early morning walk or taking a walk through Central Park after the theatre, either alone or with friends, or we'd sit down at a café somewhere and share whatever dessert he had brought for us. He loved sharing his life with me as if he was constantly doing it for me, and I loved the little moments of blissful peace between us.

Sometimes he would bring flowers and other things for me while I was working; sometimes he would pick them up when he was out shopping and surprise me with them. It seemed that he enjoyed seeing how excited and surprised I would get when he came home to find them there and left them there for me in case I woke up early to use the bathroom and didn't see them at first glance. He would always remind me every time I saw them that it was a gift I could return anytime I wanted. But that meant something else too. I loved when he brought me gifts. I loved knowing that he thought of me. But it still hurt that he didn't think of me when he bought the gifts he got for me. I hated having feelings that I didn't understand, which was why I was trying to push those feelings aside.

The problem is, I wasn't entirely successful.

When we arrived back at the hospital after dropping off Aziraphale's body and making arrangements for the funeral, Crowley drove me straight back to his apartment where I immediately collapsed onto his couch, curling myself up into a ball and burying my face in my knees. He followed suit, falling on top of me as he wrapped his arms around me and rested his chin on my shoulder. He nuzzled against my neck as he held me in his arms gently, rubbing comforting circles against my back. I felt his body slowly begin to tremble as he cried and buried his face into the crook of my neck. I hugged him fiercely and let a few tears fall, knowing that I was probably the only reason why he was crying; I was the reason he was breaking apart.

It seemed to me that the last week had taken every ounce of strength out of him, and he had already tried hard enough to keep everything together when it came to Gabriel; I guess he really did need to cry this one last time.

My phone started buzzing relentlessly on the coffee table in front of me and we looked over at each other guiltily.

"Don't answer it," I muttered quietly, reaching over and grabbing it to stop it from vibrating so much.

"Why not?" he wondered curiously, raising an eyebrow.

"Because it will probably be Gabriel," I answered seriously as I put the phone up to my ear, ignoring the text message that I received as I waited impatiently for Gabriel to answer my call.

Crowley sat up and reached for his own phone, unlocking it and opening his conversation with Gabriel on his phone and scrolling through all of the messages that they had exchanged since yesterday. He began to frown deeply when he glanced up at me and shook his head.

"He's not picking up," he murmured as he scrolled through a few more messages on the phone, glancing up at me quickly before he went back to reading his messages again.

"You can try again later," I suggested softly