This scene just kills me. It’s so representative of everything Aziraphale is struggling with, because he chose to be like this. He saw the hard, bruised, battle-scarred armies of heaven and he said no. Not me. I will not be a soldier. So he built his life around soft things, food and books and bow ties and clandestine dinner dates with the enemy—
But he’s still hyperaware of the fact that he is not what he’s supposed to be. And that’s been haunting him for 6000 years.