Aziraphale chuckles, a sound a bit heavy with the tension of holding back something overwhelming, but he's happy to be held. The safety and comfort he's found in Crowley's arms is nothing like the creature comforts he's known during his six thousand years on Earth (and beyond).

He wraps his arms around the demon. "I've made many mistakes. I suppose I still am." But still, he smiles. Relief? Thankfulness? Maybe all of it. "I'll keep trying, my dear."