. . .
"There is no perfection, only beautiful versions of brokenness."
― Shannon L. Alder
. . .
I like you.
...I like you, she says, a lot.
Those words sounds too good to be true.
He swallows, feeling the sting of a tear in his eye as he blinks, trying to will them away from falling. It was unsuccessful, because Alastor can still feel one, traitorous tear languidly dripping on his cheek. Winters gently catches it with the back of her hand, looking equal parts concerned and confused, "Why... are you crying?"
"...you're pulling on my leg, are you?"
She blinks, staring at him for a moment, looking genuinely taken aback now. "...You don't believe me," she says, at length. As if in disbelief.
"You make it hard to," Alastor quips.
"But I do like you," Winters insists, looking like she doesn't even know what else to say at that, has absolutely no idea what those words actually does to him, "...isn't that what you wanted to hear?"
It is.
It's what he wanted to hear.
So why does it feel wrong, like it was one of his dreams yet again? Like this wasn't really happening? Wasn't even real?
Why then, does he suddenly feel so... so anxious?
How many years had Alastor even longed to hear those words? To know that he had a mate who cared. That he was loved? "I told you I can wait, didn't I?" he asks, his voice almost cracking with emotion, "You don't have to lie to me if you feel pressured–"
"And I am perfectly aware of what I just told you," Winters bit out, leaning sharply away from him, as if burnt, "If you don't believe me, fine. Forget it."
"Wait!" his hand hastily shot out, clamping on her arm, instinctively stopping her from walking away from him. Again. "Look, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to sound like a jerk. It's just... you startled me, okay? That literally came out of nowhere!"
She scoffs.
He scowls, "Well, what was I supposed to do? How do you want me to react? Huh? Winters? A second ago, I was only making muffins and you popped out of the blue–"
"You were hitting your head on the counter–"
"That's not the point!" Alastor cut in, deliberately not wanting to talk about how she had caught him in a middle of an existential crisis, "You... you don't get to tell me you suddenly liked me, as in like-like—"
Her brows furrowed, "What do you mean 'suddenly'?"
"B-but just now you...!"
"Don't you put words in my mouth, Alastor," she snapped, shoving his hand off of her arm, "I've liked you since I saw you playing with the dogs. I liked you ever since I told you that you can stay with me."
"That..." he gaped, "That was fucking weeks ago!"
She gave him a look, "Yes...?"
"You mean to tell you've liked me ever since?!"
Her cheeks flushed, "And what's your point?"
"...the point is, you're only telling me this now," Alastor bemoaned, rubbing at his face wearily with two hands as he practically collapses back on his seat, "Why? Why are you only telling me this now?!"
