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Tar, holding a pot of coffee and a cereal bowl: what if instead of milk in my cereal, I put in coffee…?
Type, walking past him and taking the coffee pot: what if you didn’t.
Okay but like, imagine with me a world where Aziraphale and Crowley have been married for a long time.
And every 50 years or so they renew their vows…by just getting married again.
And again, and again, and again.
It becomes a tradition for them. They plan the ceremony, have typical couple banter.
“We had that flavor of cake last time, perhaps you should choose.”
“You’re the one who loves to plan it all out Angel, you can choose.”
“Remember it’s our wedding, my dear.”
The date of the ceremony comes, and it still feels like it’s the first time. They exchange vows, every time they’re fresh and filled with even more love than the last ones, even if it seems impossible.
“You may now kiss the groom.”
Ah, they’ve heard it in many different ways in many different languages, but it all meant the same.
They kiss and the world fades away. A moment etched in their memories that no one will be able to take away. It’s just them, and it will always be that way. No matter the time, place, or form.
It will always be them, together.