South Downs, 2019
Dear Angel:
Do you have any idea what it had been like for me to live with you every day, to spend each day beside you, to love you as I do and not doing or saying anything? A tremendous calamity.
I think I fell in love with you since the first time I met you only that then I didn't know it was love, or maybe you were right and I fell in love with you little by little, almost without realizing it. And so I spent more than 6000 years, yearning to touch you, but content to see you
I began to write these letters to keep in touch with you, but shortly after I realized that it was only a stupid excuse to be able to freely express my feelings, to talk about those emotions that I didn't dare to verbalize without denying the truth.
I didn't want to wake up in a world where I still hadn't said certain things. Before, I didn't think it was necessary, but then I realized that I needed it. If I had tried to smoother and contain those emotions, I would have exploded. That's why I resorted to this method because I certainly couldn't tell you or anyone else. No one would have understood it, I'd only have received the ridicule and the condemnation, so I decided to put on paper everything I felt for you.
Even so, I fear that I spent all this time writing an ode to the love I feel for you, from the beginning of the world until today. Can you blame me? I'm sure that with all the letters that I have made you I could write whole novels about your eyes, your look, your hands, and any other part of you.
And now, I'm living my eternity. And I'm happy, very happy that I am living my eternity with you.
I'm overwhelmed, really overwhelmed. I never thought someone would mean as much to me as you do.
I love you with everything I am, Aziraphale. Although I know I don't have to say it.
My Zira, what do I have to do convince you that I love you desperately?
I love you, Aziraphale. And even if I didn't tell you enough, you would know. I love you. Sometimes I watch you sleep and wonder what I'd be if it wasn't for you and I usually come to the conclusion that I'd be dead or lost because it's you who keeps me sane and who teaches me how to be better, how to be good (Yes! A demon being good!)
Please never leave my side, never. There is so much I can say, but I know that not even 489 words will never be enough (Yes, I counted them!), but that does not matter because I will have an eternity to express it every day.
You're my miracle. You always have been.
Ever yours,
Anthony J. Fell
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Aziraphale opened his eyes slowly, trying to get used to the light radiating in his room. As part of a routine that had become inherent in him, he stretched out his arm lazily, groping for the body he was sleeping next to every night. As usual, he didn't find it.
With the same drowsiness with which he stretched his arm, he dropped it heavily and stirred between the sheets that covered the bed he shared with the devil for a year. The rest was short-lived since he was barely recovering when the door of the room opened, giving way to the red-haired demon who, like every morning without fail, carried a tray with freshly made breakfast and a letter.
"Like every day," Aziraphale thought with love and gratitude settling in his chest.
"Good morning, husband." The redhead greeted with joy that, anyone who knew him, would think it was not common in him. And they were right, usually, he reserved all that energy and enthusiasm for his husband.
"Crowley, I've been your husband for 5 months, why do you keep calling me that?" He asked, forming an everlasting smile on his face.
"Because it's been 5 months and I still don't believe it," Crowley answered naturally, leaving the tray on the bed. He lay down next to the blond on the bed and placed his head on his shoulder, giving what could be the best example of what domestic happiness was.
"Crowley, I want..." Aziraphale said in a murmur, stroking the redheaded hair of the demon, which now was long enough to fell carelessly on his shoulders.
"What? Escape to Las Vegas?" Crowley joked.
"Crowley!"
"I'm kidding!"
"Well, don't kid, my dear." Aziraphale rolled his eyes, but he didn't erase the smile that was twitching on his lips at the time. "Besides, it's too late for that." He raised his right hand, where it was a golden ring brightly shining. The demon smiled victoriously.
"Well, we can get married again..." he added with a cheerful look. "You owe me after all this time."
Aziraphale snorted in indignation and almost protested, but the demon silenced him with a smile, leaning next to him and surround him tightly with his arms.
"Hey! Don't blame me…" He kissed his lips before continuing. "It was you who wanted to move before the wedding."
"I know, dear," said the blond. "I hope that didn't bother you," he said with a small guilty smile on his face.
"Angel ..." Another kiss on the lips. "If I wait for you 6000 years, I could wait whatever it takes."
Aziraphale let out a laugh as he let the demon get his head back on his shoulder, while he stroked his hair. At this point in his life, he wondered how he could have been so cowardly, avoiding the opportunity to be happy with the demon, he cursed himself and all the obstacles that were in the way, but every time he returned home and I looked at that little corner near paradise where they had created a home, forgot any feeling that linked it to the past.
And it wasn't that complicated.
Since the beginning of time, his friendship with Crowley had been rethought. Everything around him always seemed to indicate that both were more than just friends and apparently, 6000 years of romantic and sexual tension, and almost end of the world and a death scare were enough to reaffirm those feelings that he had been so hard to hide for cowardice. Only now, with Crowley and him living in total calm and harmony that they thought they never would, he felt complete.
Aziraphale held his breath as he felt Crowley's hand firmly taking his hand, but with a soft and affectionate touch.
"I think I'm dreaming". Crowley murmured with fascination in his voice.
"Well, you're not, dear," Aziraphale assured him.
Crowley muttered something inaudible that Aziraphale could not decipher. A light caress left him motionless, he expected something intimate, but Crowley didn't do any of that. He surrounds Aziraphale with one of his arms and shrugged until his forehead was resting on his chest.
"You are real," he whispered.
Aziraphale felt tickle in his stomach. He lowered his hand and tangled his fingers between his red-haired curls.
"I am," he simply replied.
Crowley looked back at him with an almost childish smile and a blush on his cheeks. "Today's letter!"
"Every day you write me one, my dear." Aziraphale reminded him as his smile grew on his face.
"And today is not an exception, angel." the demon declared, "I told you that I would write one to you every day, so pay attention, today I plan to narrate it to you."
"Oh yeah?" He closed his eyes and settled into bed, ready to hear today's epistolary declaration. "I'm ready, dear."
"Fine." The grip tightened around his body. Smiled. "Dear Angel..."
A clear throat of the angel made him change what was said before.
"My dear Aziraphale Z. Crowley."
And there, in a small hut in the south of England, far from the telltale eyes and far from unfounded responsibilities and unfounded fears, the guardian of the east gate and the demon of the first sin began the rest of their lives together.
And the rest, well, you know the rest.