Sometimes. Sometimes he might have a way with words, other times he was a tittering idiot who was tripping over himself. But Aziraphale took the compliment with as much grace as he could manage, the blush deepening with the kiss to his palm.

And then everything seemed to slow to a stop.

Aziraphale knew what he felt in the memory, or he thought he did. Love, a healthy dose of fear, which he had attributed to fearing for Anthony's existence and the whole secretive nature of the exchange. What Anthony felt was a mystery. His eyes had been hidden and his expression had been surprised, somewhat soft and touched... Aziraphale had understood the feeling to be mutual. But was it love? Or was the demon only thankful to have the thing he had wanted for one-hundred years? Was it simply friendship or business? Had that moment in the car been one-sided?

What a fine mess they had thrown themselves head-first into.

"I... I don't know."