(Ur good)
Aziraphale sat back and checked his pocket watch. "Oh dear," he muttered, seeing that he had been at this for an hour. He had long since shed his coat and his waistcoat; for some reason, the books were covered in dust and he was not about to get his meticulously cared for clothes dirty and dusty. He decided he was just about ready to go out for something to eat. He was really hungry now.
He miracled on his regular outfit and sauntered out the door, glaring at his plants if they even bent to the side a little. He hoped the restaurant he liked was still there. Crowley and Aziraphale would sometimes go there, he likes the spicy food there while Angel likes the sweets.
(Sorry but I'm thinking this is like the 17 or 1800s)
(Oh, shit, never mind.)
(its chill)
(what do you think of crowley showing up at Aziraphle's book store (maybe he finds a the ad in the paper for the book donations) and finds Aziraphale in just his shirt and his trousers? I feel like Aziraphales always so well-dressed that could be interesting)
(That does sound fun.)
Aziraphale brushed himself off and decided that wasn't enough. Dust clung to his hands and probably his face and hair as well. He went into the small loo in his shop and examined himself in the mirror, using a wet towel to clean the dust off of him.
Crowley looked around, seeing an old bookstore add on a brick wall. "Hm… Angel will probably visit there." He muttered, checking the adress and beging to walk towards the adress listed on it.
Aziraphale had just finished cleaning himself up when he heard the shiny brass bell above the door chime. "Oh I'm terribly sorry, but we have not opened yet!" He called, starting to walk towards the main shop. "However we do open–." He stopped dead in his tracks seeing who had opened the door. "Crowley," he said, his voice weak.
"Angel!" Crowley said happily before remebering that he was a demon and was supposed to be cool. "I mean, how are you these days?" He leaned against the door frame and eyebrows raised in question as the light glinted off his glasses.
"How am–." Aziraphale stopped midsentence. "Crowley where have you been? Do you know what year it is? Do you know how long you've been gone? What the heaven have you been doing?" Aziraphale walked quickly towards Crowley and didn't stop until he was jamming his finger in his face. "And now you come into my bookshop and ask me how I am these days? Really? You better have a good explanation for this!"
"I uh… In my defense I didn't know it was your bookshop, I was just in town." He said, hands in the air in surrender. "I took a nap that turned out to be longer than I thought it was."
"Really!" Aziraphale exclaimed, crossing his arms. "That's what you have to say for yourself!" He thought for a moment and his features softened the tiniest bit. "Well. That does seem like something you would do." He glared again. "But I want you to know I am very cross with you!"
"I'll buy you food as and apology." Crowley offered, letting his hands fall back down to his sides. "I don't know what restraunts are here though, did they move?" He asked, hoping to distract Angel a bit from his anger.
Aziraphale softened again at the mention of food. "You'll buy me lunch?" he asked, his voice quiet and without its edge. "There's that place we used to go to," he said. "It's still open."