Bad Prophecies (draft 1)

II

"I've got something, and I know you're very religious but it'll be fun." Alexander nagged, before presenting a flask filled with sherry.
"You shouldn't set yourself drunk or we won't be able to walk home!"
Alexander and I had spent the last five days getting close and fooling about. We were currently sat in a meadow by a tributary, evidently I hadn't realised just how far we were from London, as the river water was clear and the air was clean. It was a lovely, warm spring day, as Alexander hoped to take me where we could be alone and away from the pollution one last time before my alleged eighteenth birthday.
"I'm not going to set myself drunk! It's not even enough liquor to set me drunk! You yourself don't have to drink any, angel."
He had taken to calling me 'angel', after I had shared with him details of my religious upbringing and my family's close relationship with Her.
"I wasn't going to drink any regardless,"
"More for me, then."
I exaggeratedly sighed, and smiled back at him.
"Interesting one, you are, Mister Black."
"Likewise, Miss Crowley."
And we both giggled. He took a sip, I took a deep breath of the clean, fresh air.
"Polluting tint of alcohol aside, you don't smell air like this everyday in London, do you? Heavens, do I miss Cornwall."
"Are you going back?"
"Sorry?"
"You said Mister Fell drags you down to London for your birthday, are you going back after?"
"That's a bit subjective."
"To what?"
I turned to face him, even after spending six straight days by his side, I was still subject to his God-given beauty,
"If I have a reason to stay."
"Well, do you?"
"Perhaps, I do, perhaps, I don't."
"Hm."

He stayed true to his word, he did not set himself drunk, nor did he set himself tipsy. When I arrived home, I was still dazed. I could not think of anything but him, I smiled profusely and stuttered heavily my responses to my parents.
"Oh dear, have you set yourself drunk? Or are you ill?" Pa worriedly interrogated, handing me a cup of tea and pressing the back of his hand against my forehead.
"Don't you see it, Angel? She's in love."
"I-'m not!"
"You know, you were the exact same about me when we were still in heaven." mum taunted him.
"Please, Crowley, dear, I have asked you not to embarrass me with the use of things I do not remember!"
"It's only true, and the only person we are in presence of is our daughter." He sighed, and turned to me. "That aside, baby angel, are you in love with that boy? What's his name again?"
"A-Alex-Alexander, hi-his name i-is," I had to take a deep breath in the middle of my sentence to calm myself, and therefore the stuttering. "Al-ex-and-er." I ended up sounding it out. "And no, I'm not in love."
"I'm not convinced. You've been absolutely smitten about this bloke. You met him once at the bookshop, and you've spent every subsequent day with him."
"Mother, please."
"You know I'm just messing with you."

Spiteful teasing aside, I was mesmerised by the boy. It brought me greatly melancholic thought patterns if I envisioned the fact I was immortal, and he was human. I have a saved entry from a journal, which I wrote that day, it read:
April 11th 1888
(Mother Mary of Her, I am not proud of it. I should not feel this way. I thought I would never feel this way. It is so exciting though. So beautifully exciting. To put it exactly the way I feel, it is as though butterflies are the contents of my stomach, a flower grows and infiltrates each individual bronchial in my lungs and has me coughing it out. As though She has granted me new life, and colour floods not through my eyes, but through my skin; through tissue, muscle, sinew, vein, through bone. I know it is not virtuous of me to love a mortal, against Her, but it strikes me with such divine joy.)

As we had been making our return to London that day, I had asked Alexander to join me at the train station in the late evening. So, as soon as I was done fixing myself, fixing my clothes, packing my messenger bag and assured I had the right instructions, I took the carriage to meet him.
"Kohl, dear, I must know why we are taking the last train of the night."
"We need be south by morning, and have enough time to make our way back before none."
"Before what?"
"When the hour is none, the hour is 3 o'clock in the afternoon.
I reached my hand out to him.
"So, the train?"
"Well yes, let's be on our way."
We bought our tickets at the stand, found ourselves a roomette and sat down opposite the other.
Right before departure, the ticket inspector came around. Do-you-have-your-tickets? Yes, we showed our tickets, we had them stamped, Okay-good-day-to-you-Mister-and-Miss.
After a long time of silence, that which I had spent reading a copy of The Book from my bag, Alexander interrupted.
"It makes me have such odd feelings that you are taking me somewhere for the occasion of your birthday, rather than the vice versa."
I closed The Book, and looked up to him.
"Trust, Alexander. It is as much a gift to myself as to you, if not more."
"Well, I do have a real gift for you, that I will give when we are there. I hope you do not deem it inappropriate or sacrilegious or whatever the most devout Protestants may think."
"My dear, I believe he the pope is as strange of a position as the next one, but to say I am a devout protestant is simply ludicrous."
"Oh?"
"A perfect example, if we were such a traditionally religious family, I would not be allowed male companions such as yourself, much less to spend time with them without a chaperone."
"Then what type of reformists are you?"
"As I've told you before, we have a very special kind of relationship with Them, and cannot be summed through simple pseudonyms that the people have made."
"I am glad I needn't be religious at all, then."
I smirked.
"You understand."
"I do?"
"You do. You may not know it but you do."

After a night of difficulty with sleep, we woke at four, our train had arrived. We collected our items, and as soon as we left the station and therefore public view, I held onto Alex's hand and began to run through the forest. The morning sunrise hadn't crept up yet, so it was mostly dark and I coordinated based on what I remembered and could see with limited vision.
"WHERE ARE WE HEADED?"
"TRUST ME! THIS WILL BE FANTASTIC!"
"YOU'VE MADE THIS JOURNEY BEFORE?"
"I HAVE!"
He didn't seem doubtful at all, and infact he grasped onto my hand even tighter. We came to a sudden and sharp halt when I nearly fell over a hill and he caught me. We were there. The secret lavender hill. We marvelled at the beautiful flowers while doubled over, laughing and trying to catch our breaths.
"Hell," Alex breathed, "I did not know you could run so fast!"
"You said it last week!"
"What?"
"You learn something new every day!"
We then fell over from our laughter. We lay side by side on the grass until we settled.
"Heavens, that was a good way to start the day." I rolled over towards him. "I think it's about time we get up, or we'll miss the best part,"
"Do tell, what is the best part?"
"Well get up first, and you'll know!" I half-screamed, already having stood up.
I helped him up, and we looked overhead the field of purple flowers. The sun was just barely beginning to rise, and it illuminated the sky in a lovely shade of violet. The clouds were wispy and thin. I could already was going to be a day of magnificent weather. The light breeze added a chilled bite to the air, but it was not overly windy.
"You were right,"
"Oh yes?"
"It is magnificent,"
I wanted to find my words on my tongue, but no matter how much I raked the many shelves and folders of my brain, I could not find a word, not one which I would aureate. And I did not know why.
He had such an effect on me, I was rendered near delirium.
If one sole person could have made me inclined to love, it was him. And I looked now as the faint light shone upon him, made his sparklingly brown eyes glisten, and danced upon the thin metal frames of his glasses, I felt a dysphoria within my heart.
We dwaled around in the flowers until the sun rose full, snickering like young schoolchildren who had had too much sugar.

We took the next train home, still trying to contain our laughter until we seated in the roomette.
When laughter settled again, Alex looked as though he had urgently remembered something, and searched through his bag.
"I'm sorry, I intended to give it to you sooner, but we got caught up." He presented me a small box.
Once in my hand, he indicated I open it.
Within, I found a bracelet.
"I knew it would be a bit eccentric, or needlessly romantic even if I were to present you a necklace or a ring, so I opted for a bracelet deliberately. Just something to remember me by once you've returned to your stances as a paralian."
It was a beautiful bracelet. A hand-threaded leather bracelet. Upon it a silver charm, depicting a book. It was so lovely that I still wear it.
"Please tell me, is it overly much?"
"No, no, not at all, Alexander," I finally broke my silence, "it's lovely. I only hope it didn't cost you too much,"
"Only a shilling," He simpered.
I, too, beamed as I put the bracelet around my colt-like wrist.
"You are so delicately pretty, you know that?"
"Why must you drown me in flattery whenever I cannot protest to it?"
"So you cannot protest to it."
I sighed, retaining my smile.
"I don't know what kind of an answer I was expecting."
Returning to London, we trekked from the train station, and parted a few feet from the bookshop.
"I wish an excellent birthday for my lady friend,"
"Less formal,"
"Happy birthday, angel,"
"That's more like it."

"I told you, angel, she's lovestruck,"
Mum taunted in favour of greetings.
"I am not!"
He gently smiled,
"Alrighty, let's get on, we've lots left to do, haven't we?"