It took less than a moment for Aziraphale to nod, and stand. "Yes," he agreed, eyes gone slow and deeply blue as he stood, "Yes," looking at the pattering rain outside, and felt her small hands in his own soft ones.

The cup of tea and scones disappeared as he left them, the books temporarily neatened, and the library was left unlocked once they'd left. Aziraphale felt cold, when a breeze went by, but was slowly feeling the weight of exhaustion weigh on him.

Murmuring almost to himself, Aziraphale rambled, "Sleeping's an addiction, you know. You miss it when you can't have it - it affects mind, corporation..." He was led to bed, tucked in nearly as if he were a child, and promised, stubbornly, just before drifting off,

"I'll wean myself off it."