A Functionally Dysfunctional Family

{5} 𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚊𝚋𝚘𝚞𝚝 𝚕𝚘𝚟𝚎 {5}

Tw I guess: Very slight mentions of Christianity/religion

~<•>~

January 7th, 2012.

Tommy is seven, Techno is twelve, and Wilbur is fifteen.

Techno huffed as Wilbur moved out of their previously shared room, his "roommate" now being Tommy.

"Why does Wilbur get his own room?" The piglin whined.

"Because he is a teenager, and he deserves his own room." Phil said, cutting up carrots for dinner.

Techno huffed. "I'm almost thirteen! Don't I get my own room!?"

Phil sighed irritability, putting the knife down on the cutting board. "Yes, but since we don't have a house with four bedrooms quite yet, you're going to have to deal with sleeping in the same room as your little brother."

"But he's loud and annoyin'!"

"So maybe you can calm him down!"

Techno groaned, running upstairs, slamming his door shut afterwards. Phil sighed, resuming dinner.

~<•>~

"How come you never married, Phil?" Wilbur asked, setting the table up.

Phil shrugged. "Never needed to, I guess. I mean, from the moment I was sent down here I've been busy with you boys. Having a girlfriend was the least of my worries."

Wilbur turned to his adoptive father, smiling sadly. "So what's gonna happen when we all grow up and leave? You're going to be here all by yourself."

Phil rolled his eyes, smiling softly. "When you and your brothers are moved out, then I'll consider finding someone. How about that?"

Wilbur smiled. "I'll take it."

~<•>~

Love wasn't a feeling that you experience often up there. It was easy to call his home "heaven" and be done with it. It's where the angels and God lives, right?

Well, no, it's a lot more complicated than that.

You see, Heaven is where human souls go. The angels live in a plane right below Heaven, and God lives in a plane right above. Very few "born" angels interact with the souls, only ones being a few guards, there to make sure no demons slip past the metaphorical gates.

Anyway, "born" angels don't have feelings, per se. They are created to serve God and protect humans. Their natural form doesn't even have a form. It's hard to explain. So much so that it'd be better for both of us that I just don't describe it at all.

Angels are only given a form when they have to interact with humans, and the form they take on is very humanoid, the only things separating them from humans being their wings, large enough for one wing each to hold three grown men.

Angels are naturally genderless beings. They choose to look like a male or a female, or remain ambiguous. They don't have the reproductive parts that every other living organism does, primarily because they don't reproduce sexually, or at all, for that matter. Angels are created when a star is born, and only die when slain.

Love is nonexistent in his plane.

He knew that, no matter what, he would never fall in love with anyone, whether he wanted to or not.

Or so he thinks, that is.

~<•>~

Phil was grabbing a box of instant noodles when he heard a voice behind him.

"I love your wings!"

He turned around to see a woman about his age (well, more accurately, the age he made himself appear to be) eye his wings with a sense of wonder.

"Oh, uh, th-thank you." He said, taken aback by the compliment.

"Where'd you get them from?" She asked.

Phil quickly thought up a lie. "Oh, um, I-I don't remember. I've had these things for so long, so..."

She nodded. "Is it okay if I...?"

Understanding what she was asking, he turned around, his wings towards her. "Oh! Uh, of course."

He felt her fingertips graze over the ashy black feathers. It took Phil's entire being to not move his wings out of instinct.

"Theyre so soft..." She breathed, her hand slowly retrieving. "Where are you going that requires you to dress like that, anyway?"

"Um, I'm actually returning from a convention." He fibbed. "I'm just getting some food for dinner."

"It seems like you're getting awfully much for just yourself." She laughed.

"I have to get a lot because of my sons." He answered, trying to ignore his burning cheeks. "The middle one especially. He's like a cat, all he does is eat and sleep."

She giggled. "He sounds like a handful."

"Shockingly, he's the only one I don't have to worry about. It's the oldest and youngest I'm worried about."

"Your house sounds interesting."

"I think the proper term is 'chaotic'." He stated, making her giggle again.

"Do you wanna, I don't know, get coffee or something one of these days?" She asked, making Phil's face burn.

"A-as in, like, a date?"

She shrugged. "If you want it to be, sure."

"I...Um....s-sure, I guess!" He said, giggling a bit.

After exchanging their numbers, she turned to leave.

That is, before Phil stopped her.

"W-wait, what's your name?"

She smiled.

"Kristin."

~<•>~

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