Chapter 6

The events went by, the years passed and finally arrived, the eleventh birthday of the young Warlock. The Hellhound did not appear. Later, in the bookstore, an angel and a demon were silently sharing a glass of whiskey.

"They said the boy was too normal..." the demon broke the silence trying to find an explanation. "Maybe we've done everything right... Maybe... Maybe he's not evil enough to get his powers and..." his expression changed and he became silent.

"Aziraphale?" asked the archangel looking at him in confusion, "Everything all right?"

"The... The Hellhound has found his master," he said with a solemn tone and looked for the angel's eyes, which were hidden behind his glasses.

"Are you sure?" he leaned back in his chair, looking at him with concern.

"Quite sure, yes." He took the glass of whiskey between his fingers.

"Then it's done, we're doomed." It was devastating.

"Welcome to the end of the world."

Aziraphale rarely spoke with such cynicism, but the emotions were too intense and he simply blocked it out. He took a large gulp of whiskey, emptying the glass and began to pour himself another with parsimony. The archangel was immersed in his own thoughts, everything was doomed, there was hardly any time left. He felt his eyes stinging with sadness, yes, but above all with rage, how could God dare to destroy that planet, to annihilate billions of human lives, the flora and fauna, to destroy the stars, to snatch away the bookstore, to snatch away Aziraphale? Because that was the end of it, the war, angels against demons, there could only be one side left and no matter who won, one of them would disappear. His hands were clenched into fists in his lap, he tightened his grip so hard that his fingernails dug into his palms leaving small red half-moon shaped marks. Thick tears had begun to flow from his face and his whole body was shaking violently. In his tympani he could feel his heart beating fast, like a buzzing sound. His chest was rising and falling frantically, when had he started panting? Then he felt a hand on his shoulder and when his gaze lifted he met concerned blue eyes.

"Raphael, dear, you need to calm down..." The demon was looking at him anguished.

Suddenly he felt rage and anger towards the demon as well. Their plan had failed. From the beginning they had followed the wrong child, Warlock was a stupid spoiled rat but he had never been the antichrist. Aziraphale had lost the child right from the start. And, more importantly, they had wasted all those years. He flicked his shoulder free of the demon's touch and stood up abruptly.

"I need some air. I'm going home."

He began to walk erratically as he tried to wipe away his tears. In less than two seconds he was through the door, the cold London air hit his face, it was getting dark. He looked up at the sky, no more sunsets, no more St. James's Park turning orange with the last rays of sun. Then he heard a childish giggle, there was a woman, in a long green coat with a little red-haired girl hovering in circles around her.

"Mom, please, please, please, please, please, can we stop at Ronnie's Flowers on the way home? We can buy Grandma a bouquet of flowers, maybe that will help with her cold."

Ronnie's Flowers was a small Soho flower shop, a beautiful old-fashioned kiosk. He and Aziraphale had attended the opening in 1778, at that time Ronald was the owner, now his great-great-granddaughter ran the business. Raphael had stopped by to buy plants on several occasions. He remembered a particular instance, he stopped on his way to St. James's Park to buy a small pot of Blue Hydrangeas. He remembered Aziraphale's face when he opened the bag and found the pot with the delicate flowers and a small bag of chocolates. He didn't know if the smile was due to the plant or the sweets, but it didn't matter, his goal was to earn a sincere and pure smile from Aziraphale. He followed that innocent little girl with his eyes, her eyes were full of hope for her grandmother to get better... She didn't know what was coming. He felt as he did when God announced her plans with Noah and the ark... But this time no one would be saved. At least he could make sure that little girl enjoyed her grandmother while she still could, no doubt the woman would be miraculously recovered by the time they got home.

For his part, the demon remained inside the bookshop. He was in shock. They had been following the wrong child. They didn't know where the antichrist was. The Hellhaund had found his master. Raphael was crying, in a rising anxiety crisis and when he had touched his shoulder to try to calm him down he had fled as if his hand was burning. He looked outside, the angel was leaning against the door, still breathing heavily, suddenly his body fell. As soon as he saw that, the demon hurried and went outside, he found the redhead kneeling on the floor with his sunglasses still on but his cheeks marked with tears.

"Angel..." He knelt down in front of him. "Look at me... Let me take these off" Raphael stirred as the demon tried to remove his glasses, but finally gave up. "Much better, look at me, my dear." Carefully, like someone approaching a wounded animal he took one of his hands, he held it to his chest, there Raphael could feel the calm beat of the demon's heart, he could feel his chest rise and fall with each breath. He placed his other hand over the archangel's heart, realizing how fast it was beating.

"Just look at me and try to breathe, with me." Aziraphale made sure to keep his gaze fixed on the perfect brown eyes and to keep his breathing slow and deep.

Little by little Raphael managed to regulate himself, little by little the feeling of drowning disappeared, little by little the tears stopped and only the blue gaze of the demon mattered.

"Aziraphale..." Raphael said softly, his voice a bit hoarse.

"Tell me, dear." Aziraphale tried to make his voice sound as calm as possible.

"Thank you..." the archangel slid his hand down the demon's chest to his waist, then to his back and let himself fall, sheltering his face in the blond's neck, hugging him. "What are we going to do?"

"I..." The demon's body shivered with those caresses, with the angel lips so close to his skin, he returned the embrace, one of his hands buried in the red hair while the other ran down the angel's back "Tomorrow we'll go to the convent where the exchange took place...maybe we can figure something out. We'll find a way."

" Can't lose you..." the archangel murmured so softly that the demon doubted he had heard correctly.

"We'll work it out." Carefully he moved the archangel so he could look at him again and cupped his face in his hands, wiping away the dried traces of tears with his thumbs. "Don't go... Stay tonight, please."

Raphael nodded several times smiling shyly, he kissed the demon's cheek, a quick kiss. He stood up shaking his clothes and holding out his hand to the other to help him up.

Aziraphale held the door for him like a proper English gentleman.

"After you.

Together they ran through all that had occurred on the day of the arrival of the Antichrist, they decided, as the blond had proposed, that the next morning they would go to investigate at the convent.

Aziraphale once again summarized the outline of the events out loud.

"That's all I've got... Anything else you remember? Anything that those on your side have told you?

Receiving no answer he turned to look at the archangel. He smiled when he saw him lying on the couch and peacefully asleep. Aziraphale didn't see the point of sleeping, it seemed like a waste of time when there were so many other things that could be done, so many books to read, dishes to try... But the archangel enjoyed sleeping and napping. Aziraphale had missed that. He snapped his fingers and a blanket appeared over the angel.

"Rest, my dear angel."

He contemplated him for a couple more seconds before returning to his repast. He could not allow these moments to be taken away from him. He didn't want to see his angel in that state again. He didn't want a war. He wanted more nights like this. He wanted sunset walks. He wanted dinners at the Ritz. He wanted to look at the night sky and for Raphael to tell him stories about the creation of the stars. He wanted to hold hands... He wanted more... For now, all he wanted to hear the archangel's sleepy voice when he woke up.