EVERYTHING BORN FROM A KISS
If one kiss could tell the story of the world, that kiss would be the one between Aziraphale and Crowley. But too many loves have followed in 6000 years, and more will come before theirs can be recognized. But in the meanders of a small town in southern Italy something was being born triggered by that kiss.
If the history of the world could be solved by a love it will be the one that has yet to be born, but a small spark is enough, even when the ways of the Lord are mysterious.
16 years later.
For a demon, 16 years was nothing, that's why after 16 years he still found himself crying at night in Anathema and Newt's house. Oramail demon had been stationed there for at least 10 years. He had tried to sleep for the first 5 years, hoping to fall asleep forever, but failed. He decided to go around the world in search of something that could cheer him up, but in one he had traveled all over the globe, and everything reminded him of his angel. So on a rainy day he showed up at the house of the two spouses of destiny, asking to be allowed in and he never moved from there.
Anathema and Newt were more than happy to welcome him, but when they realized that he had no intention of leaving, about 3 months later, they began to worry and get annoyed, but once some small logistical obstacles, spaces and unwritten rules were overcome , his presence became a matter of habit. Indeed Crowley was not a guest to criticize, he helped around the house, he devoted himself to the garden, which without him would never have been so beautiful and luxuriant, and above all he babysat the couple's little puppies.
Jonathan and Constance were the two boys born of their love.
Jon was now 17, a complex time for any teenager and parent, but Crowley had developed a good bond with the boy passionate about creepy stories and video games, and therefore acted as a peacemaker in a way that parents could not afford.
However, little Constance was her flower in Crowley's eyes, he had seen her born, now she was 9 years old, but when he first laid eyes on her it was love at first sight. Little she had a big heart, the demon was always surprised that she didn't burst inside her chest, every time she saved a little bird, every time she helped him with the plants; every time they snacked together, insisting that she feed him, he knew that love was reciprocated.
They were two normal, adorable kids, as were their parents. And that was fine with him. At least while there was daylight. At night it was a whole other story.
At night he felt an unfillable void, a hole on fire that burned everything and grew bigger day by day. It was obvious that he missed his angel, but he wasn't ready to see him again, not after just 16 years, maybe a couple of centuries could smooth out the pride and mend the cracks in that open wound.
The thing that hurt him the most was not the abandonment by the angel, he could almost understand it (almost…) But that sentence: I forgive you, as if there was something horrible in Crowley's secular love for Aziraphale. They burned in his chest and beyond, even in his head because he couldn't think of anything else but this very moment, and the more he thought about it the more real it became and took on a solid shape. That of an enormous weight that carried on his shoulders and prevented him from going forward. And how in the hell could he? There had been many loves, man he had witnessed them himself to some of the most poignant and beautiful in the history of the world and beyond. When he came to terms with it, even the one between Beelzebub and Gabriel had seemed nice to him. In short, if they and all the previous ones had made it, why did things have to be different for them?
He never let on the outside anyway, he'd never even told Newt and Anathema anything about what had happened, and when they showed interest in Aziraphale's absence he simply said he'd had a promotion upstairs. .
It was strange not not seeing them together, the world itself noticed it, everything seemed out of place, the balance was broken, something was wrong. A different energy, and not necessarily a negative one, hovered in the air, and despite Anathema pointing it out more than once, Crowley always limited himself to a shrug. If the world were to end again this time he would have done nothing.
But the world, despite everything, went on, adapting to these new balances that were slowly forming.
Evidently Aziraphale's work was proving to be more profitable than he imagined, perhaps it was right, perhaps this is how things were supposed to go. For those 16 years nothing extraordinary happened.
All this changed when one morning he picked up the newspaper from where the newspaper boy had thrown it.
He read the newspaper every day, selfishly to see if any disaster was on the horizon, but so far nothing had happened, at least until that day.
He leafed through the newspaper idly, not expecting anything in particular, when a sensational headline struck him: ITALY IS IN SHAPER.
He then began to read with renewed passion that article only to discover that the title was not so exaggerated.
Italy was falling apart both figuratively and otherwise.
The article reported: Italy is 20th among Western countries: it has the same score as Romania. Only 4 are worse. Italy is twentieth out of 24 Western countries for respect for the rule of law. Only Bulgaria, Hungary, Greece and Croatia are less able than Italy to comply with their laws.
The world was concerned about the clearly fascist political turn Italy was taking, new neo-fascist movements were born every day, the most basic rights were increasingly trampled upon. It is also one of the countries with the highest homicide rate per femicide. Young people are fearful and misaligned, lost and despondent about the future to such an extent that suicides are commonplace among 9-17 year olds.
At this news in particular Crowley thought of the boys he took care of, and it horrified him, young people with their whole lives ahead of them saw such a dark future that they decided never to live it.
The article went on to highlight all the downsides that had appeared in recent years, and not least of all the climate.
The sky cried tears continuously on one side, leaving the poor Italians at the mercy of storms and floods, and the fire burned everything in its path on one side, it's as if everything had broken.
Crowley had visited Italy often, and he had always marveled at that little corner of the world, where heaven and hell lived in symbiosis. A contradictory country and for this complex and wonderful. Where art had had time to thrive, where thought had developed into magnificent thoughts, such as the Dolce stil novo, where poetics had always found space in the folds of time, and what was beautiful was exalted, but also what was sinful and carnal, a country to love for a demon like Crowley who loved shades of gray.
So he was greatly surprised to hear these fierce criticisms, so he decided that it was appropriate to pay a visit to the beautiful country to investigate what was happening.
The next day he said goodbye to his spouses, who had taken care of him for 10 years, said goodbye to the children who had helped him forget his wounds for all that time and left for Italy.
