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Warnings: Notta! Summary: Drabble. Crowley is punished. From his earliest childhood, people looked at him with big eyes, full of fear. Anthony Crowley could never figure out quite what made people afraid of him. He’d always felt perfectly normal, or at least thought he’d felt perfectly normal because he could never know just what "normal" really consisted of. Most people flinched at his eyes, with their oddly-shaped pupils and irises and the strange yellow color that they appeared to glow with in the light. A few others--a very few since he’d learn how to control his voice--winced at the hiss that slipped out with every 's.' And the rest of them all said he had this "presence" of evil, said that there was something about him that just screamed danger. He hadn’t been able to keep any friends for very long. Not until his twentieth birthday, when an angel had entered his life. Anthony didn’t know, of course, that the man he thought of as an angel actually was an angel, but he did know that this Alexander Ziraphale of his was the first person to accept him as he was--eyes, hiss, and all. And if sometimes Alexander had an odd reaction to something he said or did, as if he had been expecting something else entirely, or if sometimes he called Anthony his "dear demon" with eyes that shined suspiciously, what did it matter? He had his angel, the only friend he could ever need for all eternity. Nothing else mattered.  read more fic!
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