Hell en Pointe | Alastor ✓

chapter 5

You met Angel in the lobby and complimented him on his hair, which always looked the same but also always looked perfect. He softened and thanked you. You smiled back.

You both chatted for a moment, putting the leave to go out into town on hold as you got lost in mindless conversation. This continued until somebody appeared in front of you.

"Going somewhere?" said Alastor kindly. Your gaze snapped to him like a magnet. He wore his usually bright red, maroon, and black getup. His fingers danced across the head of his staff as he stood casually, waiting for a response.

"What's it to ya, Al?" said Angel, a little suspicious of the sudden question. You could only assume that this meant this was an unusually behavior for Alastor, that he likely kept to himself and out of other peoples business. Understandable. Probably not in your case, though, since he's so determined to rub it in your face that he owns your soul with merely his existence.

"Just making conversation!" he said genuinely. His movements were almost animated, like a showman of sorts. It's as if he was always putting on a performance.

"Odd," said Angel simply. He decided to play along, his body relaxing a bit. "Anyway, we were just abouta go out for some drinks and fun. Nothing major. Just a friends day out."

"That doesn't really sound like, [Y/N]..." he said, trailing off with a bright tone. In a blink of an eye, he whisked around and magically appeared behind you. He had a gloved, closed hand resting on your shoulder. He leaned in towards you before you could react, becoming so close to your ear you could feel his breath fanning across your skin. Your skin prickled with goosebumps. "...does it?"

You knew what he meant. He was outright accusing you of manipulating Angel, of getting him on your good side so if you ever needed something from him in the future, he'd be there. That's what you'd been doing to all of them, is what he basically just insinuated.

He was somewhat correct.

Cheeks twinged with red, you shouldered him off angrily, yet tried to keep your composure on the outside. You turned around to face him, Angel standing behind you merely watching the scene unfold.

"A-hem," you clear your throat. "Radio Demon. If you don't mind, it's quite disrespectful to violate a lady by touching her without her permission—"
Fucker, is what you wanted to say at the end of it.

"Ah!—" Alastor opened his mouth to counter you, probably to say something witty, but you stopped it.

"—spoken or unspoken," you said with furrowing brows, hoping your point came across quite clear.

"Right," said Alastor. His smile remained, but his eye twitched ever so slightly, hardly noticeable. Your smile crept wide upon your lips. "My... apologies."

"Oh, please, sugar, don't bore me with words you don't truly mean," you said smugly, waving him off. You turned your head to Angel. "Well, we really must be goin'."

"Really, the sky is gettin' fuckin' dark out there," Angel joked with a jab of his long thumb, referencing to how it was always dark in hell (except from the shade differences). You snorted. Then Angel let out a small giggle. You then both burst out into laughter. You covered your mouth with your hand as you hunched over, giggling.

It was ridiculous, truly. The joke really wasn't even that funny. But Angel did it as a jab to Alastor for being annoying as shit, and that was fucking hilarious.

"Haha! Hahaha!" you giggled. "Oh, oh my!"

"What," Alastor practically stated. "What? What's so funny?"

The laughter was intensified by his words.

"He- He!" said Angel, unable to get the words out.

"It's really not that funny, [Y/N]," said Alastor, his radio-tone growing deeper as he tilt his head. He had that murderous glint in his eye like someone had pissed him off severely. "It's not. He's not that funny, truly."

Oh, how you laughed even harder at that.

"Oh, for fucks sake..." murmured Alastor, his wide grin a little strained. He used his cane as a walking stick as he turned to walk away. When he was out of sight, the laughter had died down and Angel turned to look at you.

"Gosh, what is his problem?" he said. "It's almost like he was jealous or somethin'."

You shrugged, your smile still lingering. "Jealous? I doubt it. He hates me, sugar." You looked at Angel, your smile quickly fading. "And the feeling's mutual. He thinks he's all powerful and whatever, but I promise you, one day that'll change."

Angel just stared at you wordlessly. He looked concerned, and that's when you realized the... evil look upon your face. That's the best way to describe it. Evil. Conniving. Calculated.

You wiped the look away and hastily replaced it with something more... friendly. "Well," you put your hands together, "Let's go on now, shall we?"