Never in December

Those Two

They're always together.

Just kidding.


         Alastor stirred in bed with a little sigh. His eyebrows knit together at the amount of sunlight filtering through the windows. It took him about ten minutes to realize it was noon, and he should have been at school five hours ago. Apparently Gabriel didn't find him worth waking up. Then again, Gabriel didn't think highly of anyone. For a moment he actually considered trying to go halfway through the day, but then remembered that he was an adult now and didn't care. Not that he'd cared before. With a huff, he sat up. Too fast! The world blurred heavily and with a shudder he collapsed back onto the mattress. After that, he gave up. Rolling sideways off of the bed, Alastor hit the floor with a soft whump against the black carpet. He stared at the patterned ceiling with faint amusement.

         Alastor glanced over at his wall mirror thing. Since the room had once been shared with his ultimate narcissist brother Gabriel, one of his walls was entirely made up of a giant mirror. His reflection glanced back at him.

         "Cut your hair," he scolded.

         His reflection scowled back at him with equal dislike. His sharp eyes had always been his main feature, but not good ones. The pupil and iris blended together in black, with no distinction between the two. They stuck out against his pale complexion, even more so than his equally black hair. Why do I always look gross? Alastor grinned and stood up, squaring up to the mirror.

         "I will fight you."

         Then he remembered that punching a mirror hurts. What was he doing again? Right, cutting his hair. Wait, no, he didn't want to do that. Did he? Imagine what would've happened if he'd burned his hair off. Not that it would hurt or anything, his supernatural immunity to fire had always been a great party trick. But hair is dead so it'd kinda burn off. That wouldn't be fun. Not to mention the smell. Plus his fingernails, ew. Alastor prided himself on his well kempt fingernails. They were bitten to the stubs and bled all the time. Epic. As he made his way to the bathroom he passed a painting and had the sudden urge to sink his fingers into it and rip it to shreds. So he did. It hurt. A lot. Now that it was gone, he couldn't remember what was on it. It was just laying on the floor in shreds. Only then did he realize that his fingers were bleeding.

         "OW, FIDDLESTICKS! Squid, come here."

         The family cat, Squid, glanced up at him, looking down on him nonetheless. He meowed.

         "I'm no monster but I will eat you alive," Alastor muttered.

         Squid meowed. He was hungry, and so was Alastor. Alastor meowed back.

         "You're lucky I have ramen, or I would not hesitate to set you on fire. Before I eat, I need to cut my hair. Maybe I'll eat that instead."

         Squid meowed.

         "Good point. Ramen first."

         As always, he cannot function properly this early. Stumbling to the banister, he realized he was naked. Wait right clothes-! Rushing back into his room, he remembered that he hadn't taken the medication on his night stand. There was a half empty Monster energy drink on the counter. Snagging it and spilling it on his carpet, he carelessly took like, what, six pills or something. He realized he'd made a mistake when he read the label. Wait, no, they were definitely Flintstone Gummies. Proper medication right there.

         He felt a little bad for missing school. After all, his next friend Alex was there waiting for him. Then he remembered he was still naked. Weird time to be thinking about his friend. Dressing quickly before realizing that he was trying to put on a shirt backwards, by the time he figured out his basic human function, it was past four. Wait, did I fall asleep? The clothes he had taken so much time to put on were scattered on the floor. Yeah, he was dreaming. Squid opened his mouth again.

         "Beep. Beep. Beeeeeep."

         The sound of the machine as Alex's heart stopped was all that woke him up from his disorienting dream. Of course. He'd been expecting it for days. Yet, he hadn't wanted it to happen. Whatever person he had been before now or in that dream faded before his eyes. All that was left of him crumbled and shattered. The next day, he and Gabriel moved away. He was no longer the boy that had joked with his cat and eaten ramen for breakfast. God had not been on his side. He was a demon, after all. One look in his eyes would tell you that, and a single flame would prove it.