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The world was still… Well…
Simply put; it wasn't. At least, not yet.
The world was merely an abstract canvas of galaxies and stars; and yet, it was still the most captivating thing Aziraphale had ever seen. Not that there was much competition, but still.
Aziraphale had a favourite galaxy. He liked the orange and blue one; the one most prone to shooting stars.
Often—during the moments when Aziraphale deemed his presence was more of a burden than anything else—he found himself here.
“Get out of everyone's hair for a bit.” He’d smile, swallowing the familiar gag of loneliness that never failed to settle in his stomach.
This was one of those occasions.
The angel watched as the blood orange bled into the ocean tones in its familiar swirling pattern; the stars seldom appearing more apparent. He thought he'd call that Twinkling.
"Twinkling," He whispered inwardly, allowing the word to take shape on his tongue. Aziraphale made a mental note to mention Twinkling to the Almighty.
"What?" Asked a raucous-sounding voice to his left.
Aziraphale jumped, his vexed, dove-like wings twitching just so.
"Oh! You frightened me!” He yelped. In truth, Aziraphale wasn't exactly sure what those words meant—but they felt correct—so he said them, anyway.
“‘Ello!" The voice chirped over him; at last, Aziraphale turned to its occupant.
The angel the voice belonged to was rather tall, slim and quite pale. He was wearing the same stark-white cloth Aziraphale did. His hair was different, though—bright red curls styled into an attractive up-do.
"Crawley." His name, Azirpahale guessed.
Aesthetically speaking, Crawley was yards nicer than Aziraphale ever deemed he would be.
"Aziraphale," He countered, his earlier dubiety dissipating when it came time for the pleasantries.
"This here is mine, Aziraphapo," Crawley said, only half listening. His other half was much too busy admiring the galaxy the pair were encapsulated in.
"Aziraphale," Aziraphale corrected, "What do you mean this is yours?"
"I made it, Akirapopo. That’s my job." Crawley answered, as if it were obvious. He spun to face the slightly shorter, plumper angel.
“Gorgeous, isn’t it?" He smiled, clearly rather giddy.
"Oh." Aziraphale gasped, feeling rather shellshocked by this revelation. "It is. Gorgeous. I rather admire it." He smiled, he more than admired it.
"Why, thank you.” Crawley grinned, “Quite like the orange myself. Inspired by yours truly." He gestured lazily to his fiery locks.
"You're here quite often, Apirakoko."
"It's Aziraphale."
"Apirakoko, Akirapopo, Aziraphapo, Aziraphale. All the same."
Aziraphale opened his mouth to argue, but quickly concluded that such a thing would be a futile endeavour.
"I should go, ever so sorry for bothering you!" He landed on instead, rather awkwardly.
Just as Aziraphale prepped his wings to shoot off, he felt a slender hand wrap around his wrist; forcing him to turn around.
"No, no. Stay a bit." Crawley wasn't looking at him; but Aziraphale could see the way his cheeks had flushed a charming pink.
"Shooting stars should pass through any moment, now." He quickly added, before snapping his middle finger and thumb. And,
"Oh."
Oh, indeed. The first star illuminated the galaxy fairly slowly, Crawley explained it was simply;
‘Waiting for its friends.’
As larger groups of comets began to shoot over the horizon, their pace picked up; now rapidly migrating from one point to the next.
"Cassiopeia, Lyra... where are you? Aha! Delphinus!” Crawley began to mumble, scarcely audible.
"You name them all?" Aziraphale questioned.
"’Course I do!" Crawley scoffed, not daring to divert his eyes from the nonpareil. "Look. Look!”
It was then that Aziraphale noticed that his new acquaintance had not yet dropped his wrist.
"Look," Crawley repeated, ever-so gently guiding Aziraphale's hand up to cocoon one of the more lethargic stars. "That one there, that's Andromeda, she's a bit shinier than the rest… And, over there! Leo is a bit violet-tinted, but Draco is more violet than him."
And sure enough; Crawley was right. Andromeda did like to sparkle, little show off she was. Leo was noticeably plum-coloured, but Draco was verging on ultraviolet.
Before Aziraphale could open his mouth to inquire further, Crawley answered.
"I know because I made each and every one of them." He breathed, and Aziraphale could see another small, beautiful smile creeping onto Crawley’s face.
"They're all, at least a little bit, different from the rest.”
A bit like you and me.
Aziraphale blinked. He’d appreciated the stars before. But now? Now, Aziraphale could scarcely look away. How had he never noticed before?
"It's nice to meet you, Crawley."
"Yeah. Yeah, you too." Crawley turned to him then, and Aziraphale could have sworn that there was a newly dawned twinkle in his eye.