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“I don’t understand.”
Aziraphale looked between Crowley and the scene in front of them. They were at the Globe Theatre watching a version of Shakespeare’s classic Romeo and Juliet. They had seen it dozens of times before and they were reaching the emotional climax when Juliet discovers Romeo’s dead body. Aziraphale dabbed a tissue at the corner of his eye. It always gets him.
“The play?” he asked.
“Yeah,” Crowley’s face was scrunched up in confusion.
“Well-” Aziraphale started to explain the story so far to the other only to be stopped snappishly by the demon.
“No, I get that, I mean why?”
“They’re in love?” Aziraphale said simply not knowing Crowley couldn’t understand.
“But love’s not real.”
“What?!” Aziraphale shouted. The audience members around them turned to the pair and shushed them for disturbing the play. Aziraphale decided to drop it until later when they were alone.
Once they arrived back at the bookshop, Crowley collapsed in his usual armchair; legs tossed over the arm, and Aziraphale sat opposite him in the only other chair. After they’d had a few drinks Aziraphale dared to broach the subject again.
“What is it you didn’t understand?”
Crowley looked up at him, “What?”
“The play?” Aziraphale prompted.
“Love is a counterfeit emotion, I don’t understand it.”
Aziraphale couldn’t hide his shock, “It is real. Humans have been talking about it for thousands of years.”
Crowley scoffed.
“There are millions of poems, songs, books, plays -”
“Ok, I get it.” Crowley called out, his arms flailing in front of him.
“C-can you not feel love?” he said hesitantly.
Crowley looked confused, “No… can you?”
“Well, yes,” Aziraphale admitted, “I’m an Angel, a being of love.”
“Yes, but you have to love everything, it’s your job, that’s different.” He insisted.
“I don’t think it is.”
“I just don’t understand it, love is for mortals and fools,” Crowley snapped, sighed, then continued after a pause, “I don’t understand all that crap they say about it, it never turns out how they want it to, like those two characters in that play.” He gestured vaguely.
Azirphale stayed quiet for a moment thinking about how he could get the other to understand. He had plenty of experience with love and not just in the broad Angel way. He knew about love intimately especially regarding a certain Demon.
“What I feel is real,” he started hesitantly, “When you’re in love it sets your heart racing.”
“Can’t relate.” Crowley said simply.
“Maybe it’s something you lost when you fell.”
Like a switch Crowley immediately closed himself off. Azirphale wished more than anything he could take those words back, maybe he had drunk too much and maybe not enough for this kind of conversation.
“Right.” Crowley said shortly, downing the rest of his drink in one go he stood abruptly, grabbing his jacket from the back of the chair.
“Crowley, I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have-” Aziraphale started rushing to get the words out.
“No. You’re probably right,” He turned his back to Aziraphale, “I’ve got to go.” He walked over to the door with none of his usual swagger.
“See you again soon?” Aziraphale nearly pleaded, standing up from his chair, he debated whether to go after him, but knowing Crowley would probably need some time alone, he stayed where he was.
“Sure.” Crowley said simply, walking out of the bookshop.
“I’m sorry.” Aziraphale called softly to the closing door not knowing if the other could even hear him. The bell jingled mockingly at him.
Aziraphale looked around the bookshop suddenly feeling so alone, “Love is for mortals and fools” he whispered to himself repeating what Crowley had said. Sighing, Aziraphale fell back into his chair, picked up his forgotten wine glass, downed it and filled it again.
“Then I am the biggest fool of them all.”