Putting On A Show

Confession Time

You had expected Alastor to dive into whatever questions he had for you, but instead, he seemed to relax a bit and continued to leisurely stroke your ears, allowing you to snuggle into his chest. To be honest, this wasn't so bad, you reasoned. You found yourself becoming comfortable, or at least more comfortable, in his lap and his soft humming was even a nice distraction. You noticed that when he would tire of one tune and switch to a new one you would catch the light sound of radio static, as if someone was changing the station. You smiled to yourself, because damn, that was absolutely adorable. Who would have thought it possible. You supposed it wasn't all that different from the way that your body told on you constantly. Perhaps there was something to how each person's body was formed when they entered hell? For you, it was a body that took away one of your most successful coping mechanisms. Maybe it was that way for everyone? Definitely something worth thinking about.

Eventually, you could tell that he was going to ask you a question, as you felt him shift somewhat under you and the background static increased, even just a bit. Interesting. It was as if decreasing the static sounds was something that he had to actively concentrate on. Oh well, you supposed, if he could analyse you, then turnabout was fair play. You could come up with questions of your own!

"So let's do some exploring, shall we?" he began, moving his hand from your ear to your cheek, brushing over it lightly. You nodded your consent, although you were pretty sure he would ask questions whether you agreed or not.

His first questions were fairly easy ones to answer. They were the standard 'where are you from', 'when did you die', 'what did you do for a living', how old were you at the end of your life'...These were rather easy to answer, and you noted without surprise that you were now able to speak again. The longer you chatted about yourself, the more comfortable things became between the two of you. Before long you were sharing the happier stories of your childhood, before things became complicated and life became more strained for you.

It wasn't that you didn't have good family, because nothing could be further from the truth. Your parents had tried to make a great life for you, providing everything that they knew how to give you. School had never been difficult for you either, far from it! You excelled in the performing arts and creative studies, as well as history and government. If it weren't for math you would have been considered an all around genius when it came to schoolwork. You found it easy to pour yourself into your studies and your practice for band, and choir, and the debate team, not to mention the volunteer work you did on the side, visiting with the elderly and disabled people your mother worked with at the town's one nursing home.

Eventually Angel Dust returned, you couldn't imagine what had taken him so long, but you were simultaneously glad and disappointed to be leaving Alastor's comfortable lap to adjourn to the kitchen for breakfast. As soon as you followed Angel out of the door the smell of food hit your nose and all you were interested in was what had been laid out on the table. You recognized the dishes as some type of hard bread served with a milky coffee concoction, except Alastor's, which was notably black coffee. You tried a bite of the bread with some of the jam laid on the table, and it was surprisingly rusk-like. "This is great" you complimented Angel's cooking "but what is it, exactly? I have never had this before" you didn't want to seem as if you were turning your nose up to it, quite the opposite! It was delicious.

"My ma used to make this on the weekends. It's fette biscottate." said with a smile. You could tell that he must have thought a lot of his mother. "It's traditional Italian breakfast food" he added as an aside.

You didn't realize just how hungry you were until you began to eat, but it was delicious. Once breakfast was over you stood up to clear your dishes and out of habit, you were picking up everyone else's as well. This garnered a raised eyebrow from Alastor, who was taking a final sip of his coffee. As you began to lift Angel's empty dishes he stayed your hand, "Oh no, you don't, toots." he said gently, removing the dishes from your hands.