[Aziraphale pushes himself up on his elbow and blinks, certain that the color has drained from his face.
Something's wrong indeed.]
Your eyes, they're β
[He can't feel anything, either. Crowley's right there, right in front of him, but all Aziraphale has to prove that is his sight. There's no demon, no scent or taste of Hell on the air, and Crowley's eyes β
no subject
[Aziraphale pushes himself up on his elbow and blinks, certain that the color has drained from his face.
Something's wrong indeed.]
Your eyes, they're β
[He can't feel anything, either. Crowley's right there, right in front of him, but all Aziraphale has to prove that is his sight. There's no demon, no scent or taste of Hell on the air, and Crowley's eyes β
Aziraphale looks at his hand. His ring is gone.]