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Of Raphael

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"My name is Aziraphale. Azi meaning of or for. 'Of Raphael'. I was made to be Raphael's soulmate. What we are, it isn't right." Crowley sighed. "And where is Raphael?" "I don't know! I asked Gabriel and he said 'Oh, he's one of the Fallen. And good riddance to him too.' Even an Archangel doesn't know where he is." "So what do you know about him?" "He made the stars, at Gabriel's side. He had red hair and eyes that could burn into you. I only know this through hearsay, I never met him." "What stars did he make?" "Alpha Centauri, Sirius, Polaris.. wait, aren't those the ones you made?" Crowley nodded. "And how can you tell your soulmate?" "You can feel a strong pull towards them, you feel you've seen them before, everything centres on them." Aziraphale is starting to twig now. Crowley begins to list. "Red hair, check. Burning eyes, check. They were yellow, even before they were slitted. Made the stars, check. I'll presume the pull I felt on meeting you was reciprocated, so check. Fallen, definitely check. You're right, we never met, but I saw you from afar, this tiny, soft angel, who was made for me, and I was torn between 'I want him' and 'he looks so delicate, what if I break him?' You were so pretty. Still are." "Raphael." "Crowley. Call me Crowley. I hated being an Archangel." "We're soulmates. An angel and a demon. Oh, goodness, what will our superiors say?" "Sod 'em." Crowley pulled Aziraphale into a kiss.

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