This was not how this lunch should have gone, but in retrospect, there was no way to put so many combustibles together with a catalyst and not expect a violent reaction.

His heart buoyed on that crest and sank. Run away together? ...You don't mean that. You can't-- Anthony was an engaged man. A very newly engaged man, and he was getting cold feet about the major life decision he had made, that was ALL. They were both confused by these so-called-memories, regardless of those soft glances and equally soft words, he was never supposed to know that Aziraphale was so wretchedly in love with him. Crowley had told. It should have been a betrayal of trust, but instead it was just Crowley coming to their rescue again.

And again. He gasped and reached for Crowley's shoulder to pull him back when he turned on Anthony, fingers left grazing his sleeve when he abruptly pulled away and Aziraphale was left stunned and alone with Anthony.

"Crowley!" The door slammed loud as a gunshot and brought him to his senses. Aziraphale took a step away from Anthony, straightening his clothing nervously, eyes darting to the door with indecision and a plea for a resolution. Come back and rescue me from myself, Crowley. Or: Go after him and spare us both, Anthony. Loyalties and love torn, Aziraphale himself settled cowardly on the option immediately before him, tugging lightly at the feeling of a thin red thread of connection.

"We shouldn't be doing this."