It had been a very interesting week, interesting indeed. Between getting used to this island and the likes of more than just humans! More than just angels and demons! It was a lot to get properly used to, even to understand. Mind you, even being a celestial being, this was not something that he had come across in the past. 6000 years worth too! Of course, then there was Crowley.
Oh, he had messed things up terribly so. Even the thought of his wiley adversary wanting to sleep away another eight decades without him. An indignant huff following as the angel drug a woven parcel behind him along the sand.
Sure he could have easily just miracled himself a spot on the beach but what fun would that be?
A muslin cover up of white flowing between his legs as he continued to do this horrible walking thing on the sand. He'd almost forgotten how much he hated the sand between his toes.
Once he found a reasonable place to bask in the sun, the angel turned to stick his parasol into the sand, pushing it down as far as he possibly could with the hopes of still getting underneath it. Wiggling excitedly as Aziraphale moved to open his parcel to pull out a white towel and spread it out on top of the sand. Attempt, being a keyword to use here, because it took quite a bit of grumbling and fumbling to do so.
"Good Heavens," Aziraphale sighed and pulled his robe up over his head to reveal a two-piece bathing suit that was rather typical of the 1920s, it was light blue with white threaded hems, and belt. Fidgeting said belt, before he replaced his woven sisal derby hat back onto his head. Puffing his cheeks up with a heavy sit onto his spot, and reaching into the basket to take out a book. (Did you honestly expect less?)
Surely now, he would get some piece of mind. Some quiet. Solitude even! No Gabriel to pop in on him unannounced. Surely not the likes of Michael.
It was a good few minutes that passed before he let out a frustrated sigh and set his book down. He had been staring endlessly at the words but never actually reading them. As hard as he may try to ignore the situation at hand he couldn't help but go over the events of the past week. Everything that was said, and nothing that was done. Crowley still seemed reasonably cross with him, which made things rather awkward. Especially since Aziraphale didn't know anyone else, and he had grown so used to the demon having his back, saving him from peril and the likes. Now he had to do so on his own?