Page 43 of Falling in Love with A Tiny Bat

I wish I were playing outside.

Forehead to the glass of my bedroom window, I watch Zahra and Castor laugh and joke and roleplay and snack and battle it out side-by-side against a mob of opposing humans dressed like guards. The hilarity rioting in Castor’s whole being can only stem from the insanity of it all.

Fake fantasy and fake fighting. While he is a powerful creature trained in a variety of combats all over the world and all over history.

He has been the deciding factor in the start and end of wars that are still listed in textbooks.

Playing like he is right now is ludicrous.

Absolutely ridiculous.

And absolutely beautiful.

I sigh and peer down at Ash, who’s been changed and fed and rocked to sleep. “You’re very boring,” I tell him. “All you do is eat and sleep and—” I swear. “I wonder at what age you will become amusing.” Touching a kiss to his small forehead, I hum a song I learned from one of the movies Willow recommended when she set up her streaming services on my phone.

As I’ve yet to drag myself all the way into the woods on the other side of Mountain Vale for a Thursday movie night, she insists I partake in spirit.

Sometimes I do. Sometimes I’m too busy teaching my mental health birb app about existential dread.

Being a father is a difficult task, isn’t that right, Ash?

Mommies get to have all the fun playing outside in their sexy little outfits while daddies are stuck at home, changing diapers, or making drugs in the basement and telling their little nightmare daughters to stop biting.

In my experience, anyway.

“I’m too young for this kind of responsibility.” My brows rise as I sit on my bed. “Oh dear. I said that aloud, so I must at least believe it if it’s not true. How discouraging.”

Given my personality, I’m liable to teach a child all sorts of things just because it’s funny.

Remarkable, really, that Zahra worked through her anxiety about today and decided to trust me with her precious little baby. Who is already her favorite. Even though he just eats and craps and sleeps.

I shouldn’t be jealous of a baby.

And, yet, I find myself offended that I struggle with all three of his tricks. The sensory wasteland that islifekind of sucks.

Would things have been any different for me if I’d had the luxury of being eased into the physical plane, rather than dropped head-first into it, fully formed? To exist on its own is jarring. Tobecomeall at once without warning, to sufferfeelingswhen there were previously none…

That’s truly something else entirely.

“I hope you know how lucky you are,” I whisper. “To come into this world…loved and expected and wanted. It’s a treasure to be precious just forbeing.”

Life is a burden, and I resent my flesh.

Suddenly, my ajar door flies fully open to present a dark angel. Cloak whipping behind her, Zahra—with gleaming purple eyes and sparkling makeup to match—sweeps in, locates me, and brightens.

Never…mind.

Life’s okay, innit?

I smile, up until the moment Zahra lifts Ash carefully from my arms, presses a kiss to his cheek, and cradles him in against her heart, all but forgetting I’m here. “My baby,” she murmurs into the thin wisps of his curling hair.

Frowning, I lock my ankles and lean back on my palms. Ireallyshouldn’t be jealous of a baby…yet I wish she’d possess me like that. “How was your live action roleplaying?”

Her eyes spark when they catch mine. “You could have warned me there would be an extra visitor.”

“Here I thought extroverts liked people.”

She shakes her head, disapproving. “I can like people and want a little forewarning when I’m going to be interacting with a select few.”

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