Bad Prophecies (draft 1)

IX

Upon returning home, I was absolutely ecstatic. I was engaged! To an immortal boy! All of my worries and problems were dissolved. I simply had to tell Pa. Only, he was in Scotland. So I wrote him a letter.

Dear pa,

I have fabulous news. As it turns out, my boy is immortal. And even more fabulous news, we are engaged to be married! I could seldom believe it myself at first, but it's true. I urge you not to return from your trip to Scotland before you are due, I can wait abidedly for your timely due. Oh, and lest I forget, share the fabulous news with Mother.

Sincerely, K. Crowley

Over the next few days, Alex and I had a lot of conversations on the rooftop of the bookshop. They were all rather arbitrary, in our opinion, the usual jargon of everyday struggles and the quirks of life. Only, it wasn't really usual because it was about the strange things one experiences when faced with the terminal condition of immortality.
"Why do you wear glasses? I would've thought you had perfect vision." Alex asked me at one point.
"I started to wear them when I was 14 out of curiosity, then I got used to how I looked wearing them, and after some time, I didn't like how I looked without them. What about your glasses?"
"Believe it or not, I am not just a Demon, I am very much human, too."
"That would imply mortal injuries apply to you, at least in some part."
"They do, but only partly. I could die if I forget to miracle myself to survive a situation."
At this information, my eyes widened, and I began staring at him intensely.
"What?"
"Why do you climb three-story rooftops, then? What if you fall?"
"You weren't concerned when you thought I was completely human."
"Because you thought I was human too!"
He then started giggling uncontrollably at my stupidity, and no amount of shaking him by the shoulders made him stop. I think it was a full half hour before he stopped.
"Alright then, what about Mr. Fell, what is he?"
"He's the angel."
"So your mother is the demon? I'm not well educated on Daemonologie and angels, and whatever, how were you born?"
"Angels and Demons are completely sexless beings. They can be male or female or neutral-presenting when they wish. Both of my parents are male-presenting for the time being, and I've been female-presenting since birth. I was born at the Satanic convent."
"Oh, me too."
"I would have expected that. Actually, the funny thing is that I'm also completely sexless, which my parents forgot might happen until the very moment before I was born. They decided I would be female-presenting on a whim."
"See, that's the thing, I have all the proper bits humans do, and I could never imagine a life being, well, 'completely sexless' as you put it."
"Do you like it? Being a boy?"
"Not exactly, sometimes I do, sometimes I don't."
I giggled. Then my smile shortly went away.
"Do you still like me? The way I am, you know, without the 'bits'? Must think of me as a failure of a woman. No breasts, body of a seven-year-old boy, no uterus to bear children..."
He only smiled and wrapped an arm around my waist for a side hug.
"My dear, I like you just fine the way you are. I wouldn't want you any other way, for you are perfect. You know, I think we should remain without children. After all, we're to be barely any older than children forever."
Relieved he held me in such high esteem, I began giggling again.
"Oh, I love children but hate the idea of raising them. My parents tell me horror stories of raising the little Demon I was."
"It can't have been that bad, I was half-human half-Demon, and those are both terrible things to be. My mother was raising the child of a literal demon. You must have been an absolute angel."
I laughed.
"For the most part, you'd be right. But there are one-off horror stories. Particularly in my teenage years. I was going through a rebellious phase."
He wheezed at the hearing of this.
"You? Rebellious?"
"Unfortunately, so. It was particularly bad since my pa's been single-parenting the majority of my life. Uh, when I was fourteen, I stole a cab. When I was thirteen, I was so angry at him for fuck-all probably, I don't remember, that I ran away for two months. Stayed with the newsies. When I was seventeen, I hired a hearse and lay in it smoking while it drove around London. There's plenty more where that came from, but you'd have to ask my pa. He's older than the world itself."
"Wow. You? Kohl H. Crowley, I've never thought you were the type of girl to do that. And in the eighteen-tens? Must have been scandalous."
"Oh, it was. A nice, respectable bookseller's daughter. Not only a ginger but a disgrace, too."
"I can't imagine you being called a disgrace."
"Oh, well, it all boiled over when I moved to Cornwall County in the 20s. I was the respectable new maiden in my town, and according to the lads, the finest bachelorette around. It was ludicrous, watching the besotted little boys pining over me."
"You can hardly have called them little boys then."
"I didn't, but that's my recollection now. Anywho, I didn't stay for long. Moved around South for a few years, then I no longer wanted the sea, and I decided I wanted the Scottish Highlands. Then, I went to Europe for a good ten years, exploring what it had to offer. Came back to Cornwall County and stayed there until I met you last year when stopping by for my birthday. What about you, I don't suppose you've been here in old London all your life?"
"No, not quite. That's a colourful tale for another time. Until then, will I finally have the pleasure of meeting the parents?"
"Tomorrow, dear boy. Tomorrow."