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My Hands Through Your Hair, Not My Tears Down My Cheek

Summary:

Aziraphale dries Crowley's hair with an angelic little miracle of his own, and does his best to bear the way their life has turned out (as told in Chapter 42 of the absolutely epic fic Don't Fall Away from Me).

Notes:

(See the end of the work for notes.)

Work Text:

Aziraphale is sitting on the sofa with Crowley on the floor at his feet, running his fingers through Crowley's wet hair to dry it with a miracle

Notes:

Don’t Fall Away From Me lives rent free in my brain.

So much so, it’s finally coaxed me into attempting to illustrate a scene, this from Chapter 42. To say this fic puts me through the emotional wringer is an understatement; but that chapter just about broke me. In the best possible way.

Anyway, this is just a little something to convey a tiny bit of the immense gratitude I have toward this incredible writer.

(And I may have taken some creative licence with sitting Aziraphale on the couch not his armchair... or I might have forgotten to double-check that detail before I started... shh...)