Somebody I Used To Know.

finding iris.

Crowley couldn't do it anymore.

He 𝘩𝘢𝘥 to see Aziraphale before he lost himself. 

The past few days he had been picking up the phone, and putting it down, picking it up again, and putting it down again. He wanted to hear Aziraphale's voice. He needed to know that he was okay. 

These past few months had been hell. Well, worse than hell. 

Crowley had hoarded all of the alcohol he could find and he intoxicated himself every time he felt sober. He needed to feel drunk. It was what kept him sane. Whether he was drinking expensive or cheap alcohol, he treated it all the same.

Bottle, after bottle, after bottle.

Broken glass.

Wine stains.

The smell of beer.

His apartment smelled and looked like an alcoholic had lived there for 20 years of their life, never cleaning up anything. 

He 𝘥𝘪𝘥 drink too much, but he was a demon, so it didn't really matter.

Everywhere he stepped, even more glass shattered on the floor. Eventually, he ended up stepping on a sharp piece of glass that went through the soul of his shoe.

"OH CMON, THESE SHOES WERE NEW."

He rolled his yellow eyes and began picking up the glass, scrubbing the wine stains out of his couch, and spraying vanilla air freshener all over to get rid of the alcohol smell. 

He was satisfied with what he had done, so he sat down on his black velvet couch . "Righto, that's much better." 

For the next hour, he sat staring at his wired phone and debated on whether or not to call Aziraphale.

"If I call, he may not pick up, but there is a chance that he will and we can fix things, but then again, he's mad at me, why would he wanna fix things? Maybe I should get someone to deliver him a message for me. Or, I could leave him an anonymous note on the bookshop steps. Should I just go to the bookshop?"

He was starting to annoy himself. 

He spent the rest of the day cleaning up his apartment and listening to The Velvet Underground. 

Everything was going well, but within a blink of an eye, the song changed from "I'll Be Your Mirror" straight to "Pale Blue Eyes."

And that's when he lost it.

That song had always reminded him of Aziraphale, but after their fight, he hadn't listened to the song in order to save himself from being hurt all over again. 

His eyes glossed over, and his knees buckled. 

He cried onto his freshly cleaned floor for what seemed to him like hours upon hours, when in reality, it was only about 10 minutes.

He gathered up the strength to stand up and he grabbed his glasses, slipped them on, and walked out the door.

He was quite far away from where he was going, approximately an hour drive. 

He got into his Bentley, and drove as fast as he could possibly drive. He passed red lights, passed stop signs, and passed as many vehicles as he could. He had time to get where he was going, and he knew that he had time, but he felt that if he didn't get there as quick as possible, he'd go mad. He hit the gas pedal and took a breath. 

He needed to figure out what he was going to say.

He thought about possible things that seemed acceptable enough to say, but none of them felt right. Every idea he had seemed generic and fake. A few of the thing he has come up with to say were really quite clever, but he was overthinking it, because he knew that he needed to be perfect, or all would fail.

It was currently 10PM, and he was 30 minutes away from where his destination was located. 

He was almost there, but instead of speeding up even more to get there, he slowed down and pulled over. He got out of the car and started to take deep breaths. He felt overwhelmed and nervous.

He was going to Aziraphale's bookshop. He needed to see him. Even if Aziraphale pushed him away again, he needed to know that Aziraphale truly meant what he said. He promised himself that if Aziraphale told him they couldn't speak anymore, he would leave him alone and never speak to him again. He'd go back to Hell, and never show his face on Earth again. Not even once. He hoped with every bone in his demonic body that Aziraphale would speak to him and consider them being friends again. 

Of course, Crowley didn't want to be 𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵 friends, but if being just friends was what it took to be able to stay close to Aziraphale's side, that's what would happen. They'd be friends and nothing more.

Crowley stood outside of his car for a good hour or so, calming himself down, before getting back in.

He drove the speed limit this time, as to not overwhelm and rush himself again. 

He hoped that he wasn't too late. It was already 10:45 and usually Aziraphale was occupied with something at that time. He didn't want to interrupt Aziraphale if he was doing anything, but he would have if he needed to.

At 11:44, he arrived at the bookshop. He hopped out of his car as quickly as possible and ran up to the bookshop door and knocked.

He heard footsteps and in an instant he started to make sure his clothes were straight and made sure he looked well put together.

The door opened, and there stood Aziraphale. 

He stared at Crowley for a moment before speaking directly to Crowley.

"What are you doing here?"