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Post by Herbert von Krolock on Nov 28, 2008 1:01:03 GMT -5
Herbert had to remind himself not to throttle anyone who absently called him "ma'am".
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Post by Aziraphale on Nov 28, 2008 1:05:06 GMT -5
"Are you doing all right?" *he asked as he passed the counter at one point.*
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Post by Herbert von Krolock on Nov 28, 2008 1:12:06 GMT -5
Herbert nodded. His conscience, or perhaps laziness, lead him to proceed to sell two books for a very small lump price.
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Post by Aziraphale on Nov 28, 2008 1:18:44 GMT -5
*The day progressed on productively; the two of them were able to make several sales (and there was only one book that Aziraphale refused to part with.)*
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Post by Herbert von Krolock on Nov 28, 2008 1:19:38 GMT -5
By the end of the day (Aziraphale thoughtfully kept it dark enough to prevent Herbert from going up in flames), the bookshelves all looked a little emptier, and Herbert looked rather guilty.
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Post by Aziraphale on Nov 28, 2008 1:21:38 GMT -5
"Well, that wasn't so bad," *he said.* "We managed to sell quite a lot."
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Post by Herbert von Krolock on Nov 28, 2008 1:30:15 GMT -5
"I saw that," Herbert said in a slightly wounded voice.
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Post by Aziraphale on Nov 28, 2008 1:30:47 GMT -5
"I'm sorry?"
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Post by Herbert von Krolock on Nov 28, 2008 1:38:58 GMT -5
"Never mind."
He smiled weakly.
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Post by Aziraphale on Nov 28, 2008 1:40:01 GMT -5
"All right...?" *he said skeptically.*
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Post by Herbert von Krolock on Nov 28, 2008 1:43:38 GMT -5
"I don't know... I suppose it's the knowledge that you would not have had to sell them if it weren't for me. I know how much you love them."
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Post by Aziraphale on Nov 28, 2008 1:44:41 GMT -5
"They're only books, Herbert," *he said, though he didn't sound quite convinced.*
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Post by Herbert von Krolock on Nov 28, 2008 4:14:24 GMT -5
"I know how much they mean to you... meant, I mean..."
He looked at his hands for a long moment.
"Aziraphale," he asked, "how can you love me?"
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Post by Aziraphale on Nov 28, 2008 14:25:29 GMT -5
"Herbert..."
*He sighed, at a loss for words. Despite all of the books he'd read over the millennia, all the languages he spoke- (though some of them were slipping away- he wasn't sure he'd be able to keep up a conversation in assyrian anymore, for example,) he couldn't put to words why he loved him. He wan a hand through his unruly curls.*
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Post by Herbert von Krolock on Nov 28, 2008 15:33:31 GMT -5
"I would think, merely, that after all that's happened-"
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