Two months blew by within what felt like days. Alastor was sat in his broadcasting room with a small frown. He hadn't killed Jeremy yet, he just couldn't without you getting suspicious of him, what with him hurting you and then Alastor saying he would handle the situation. If Rogers was suddenly the next victim, it would seem too coincidental; so three others had been killed beforehand, and now Alastor was simply planning on how to get rid of that fat tub of lard.
Slowly, he reached his hand out and flicked the "on-air" switch, smiling as he greeted the audience. "Good evening, New Orleans! What a lovely day of snow we had! And right before the festival too!" he let out a chuckle, twirling a pen betwixt his fingers. The soft sound of his flytraps munching on their supper could be heard as you fed them, a deep breath being inhaled through his mouth. He still hadn't told you that he knew what you were — and you haven't told him either, most likely thinking that he still didn't know and wouldn't approve. He would never blame you for wanting to keep that a secret.
After Jeremy, Damien was next on his blacklist. That man was keeping you from eating, you were more than exhausted half the time Alastor managed to set a time to see you, and you were being abused by the people he "rented" you to. Possibly even by Damien himself. But he was making a plan to figure out exactly where Damien's weak points were. He was planning to get himself a night with one of that man's ladies, tie her up, threaten her, get the information, and kill her. He would remain anonymous when making the arrangements well in advanced.
"This weekend will be quite a time to remember! Horses and parades, fires and lights, hot chocolates and holiday cakes," he laughed, feeling your warm gaze on his back before it returned to the hungry flytraps. "Be sure to ask your friends, family, partners to head out with you! Not just for fun but you may want to be sure you're safe. Large crowds of people may be exactly what that cut throat is looking for." Alastor's tone dropped to something a little more sinister, but lifted just as quick as it came, his smile bright once more, "Anywho! That's all I have for you folks! Have fun out there, tomorrow, and stay tuned!"
A quick and easy broadcast — there wasn't much to say. He had already spoken of his most recent murder earlier that day so all that was left was some small news. Yes, normally he told scary stories on his evening broadcasts, but tonight he wanted to take care of you... as odd as that sounded. He flicked the switch off and removed his headset, turning his chair so he could face you. "How's it going?" he cooed and stood up, heading for your side while you gently tickled Tsetse's petals. "Eh, I'm a little tired. I'm glad I got the day off tomorrow," you let out a silent chuckle, feeling Alastor wrap his arm around your shoulders and pull you into a friendly side hug. "You sure he won't drag you back to work?"
"I'm sure," you nodded, savoring the warmth of Alastor's body against yours with a small smile. You were growing fond of him. You didn't want to admit it, but you had to. He was such a gentleman, and you simply couldn't help the mild feelings of adoration for him that began to manifest in your mind. "How about you go take a shower and get ready for the night? We have a big day of fun planned tomorrow," he chuckled and gave you another gentle squeeze before releasing you.
"Alright, Al." You gave him a smile as you stood, straightening your dress a little. "The guest room?" you asked. He turned to you and shrugged, also lifting to his feet, "If you want." Your brow raised in confusion, "Where else would I sleep?" Alastor shot you a grin. "Well there's the living room, the library..." He paused, eyelids lowering, "My bedroom." Alastor gave you a playful wink and stuck his tongue out, a warmth rising in your cheeks. "Gross, don't say that!" You shoved him away from you lightly, though there was still a weak smile on your face.
"You know you love it," he teased and pulled you into a tight side hug again and tousled your hair. You yelped and tried to wriggle free, his hands tangling your neatly brushed locks while you struggled. "Quit it, Al!" you laughed, finally managing to slip out of his hold. With a small laugh, he fixed his bowtie and nodded, "Well then the guest room it is, if you're really that revolted by the thought of sleeping with your friend."
"Ew!" you cried, covering your face with your hands while Alastor cackled boisterously. "I'm only teasing," he said. You shook your head and rolled your eyes. "Aw, come now, it was funny!" Once more, you rolled your eyes and left the room, Alastor tailing you. "Are you angered with me now?" he worried, catching up so he could walk beside you.
You kept silent, not wanting to hear his pathetic apologies for flirting with you. Being honest, you should have been used to it by now. He flirted quite a bit just to get on your nerves and on some occasions, you returned the action, but he just shot back at you with something to make you even more flustered.
"Fine," he mumbled, stepping away from you and continuing down the long hall. "Hey, wait, I'm sorry, Al." You reached out and grabbed his arm, his legs halting. "I'm just being overdramatic. Don't think I'm mad at you, okay?" you giggled and punched his shoulder feebly. He smiled and proceeded to keep walking with you close behind. "So, you're sure you want the guest room?" he nudged you, your brows knitting together. "I mean unless you want me to hog the covers." Alastor grinned, "Aw, I know that you don't, my dear."
In one smooth motion, he took your hand and twirled you around, black wisps blowing by his body and lighting up the candles in the room. "And you still haven't told me what the hell that is," you hissed, now pushed up against Alastor's chest while his hand rested on the small of your back. "Not anything you should be concerned about, darling," he cooed, keeping your hand held in his as he began to sway to a silent melody, your forehead pressed to his torso.
"How have you been feeling lately?" His question was completely off-topic, but that didn't really matter. The previous conversation had been finished. "No more new wounds, I should hope?" he mused and looked down at you, your face buried in the fabric of his waistcoat. Sighing, he rubbed your back comfortingly. You worked hard. A little too hard for your own good. "I'm serious this time; you can always come sleep in my room if you want," Alastor whispered.
"Thanks," he heard you mumble into his chest while he continued to sway with you. "Let's get some supper going. Would you like to help? Or would you rather take a bath?" Of course, he knew that you were going to come and help him, you always had that stubbornness, but he always set the offer of a warm bath on the table in case you wanted to clean the filth of people like Jeremy off you.
Your answer was to help him, unsurprisingly, and the both of you headed for the kitchen, Alastor tossing you the apron you always wore when you were cooking with him. "So, what's on the menu tonight?" you asked him, watching as he pulled a frozen steak from the freezer.
"I was thinking we could try something a little different," he stated. Your eyes followed him while he dropped the piece of meat onto a thawing pan. "We can get everything else ready while it thaws. I forgot to remove it from the freezer earlier." You nodded and pulled a large bowl out from the cupboard to start on a salad, your friend working on cutting some chives into something manageable for the food.
You lifted your head from where you had begun chopping lettuce, gazing over at the tall man while you spoke. "What kind of steak is that?" There was a moment of silence that passed before he answered you, his smile present as it often was, "Goat." Goat? "I don't think I've had goat before," you tilted your head. He nodded and scraped the chives into a small bowl, "It's not a very common meal to eat. But I can assure you it's good."
Why did he hesitate to say that it was goat?
-
Alastor escorted you down the hall to the guest bedroom, despite the fact you already knew where it was after you had stayed over multiple times. His smile was small, arms being held behind his back, as he held his head high in a proud manner while walking. This was the man you met on the train three months ago. Famous, handsome (beyond belief), charming, sweet of heart. You didn't know how he hadn't found himself a woman yet; the thought became recurring more and more, as of recent.
'Why is he still friends with me?'
'Why hasn't he gone on a date with anyone yet? And if so, why hasn't he told me?'
'Is he not interested in those things?'
'Can't you just ask him?'
'Just... Stop.'
You moved your gaze to Alastor, his pale almond skin smooth as silk, face carved to perfection for his wonderful smile. It was a miracle he hadn't left you in the ditch. His amber eyes flicked down to where you had been silently gawking at him, his smirk falling to a warm smile. He stopped in front of your room and set a hand on your shoulder, bending down a little so he could reach your height. "My door's open, alright?"
"Al, why have you been treating me like a child?" you laughed. It wasn't that you were complaining, in fact, you loved how friendly and affectionate he acted towards you, but you were starting to get a little curious. He simply moved his hand to your face, cupping your cheek. "I haven't been doing anything of the sort!" he said, waving off your suspicions. "I simply want you to know that I care about you. You're an amazing friend, (Y/n), and I'm not sure where I'd be without you." Then he moved your face closer to his and planted a light peck on your forehead, heat already beginning to boil within your face.
"You flatter me, Al," you laughed nervously, taking a step back from the man and giving him a smile. "Maybe I will pop by later on." Alastor grinned at your weak joke and ushered you into your room before wishing a good night and heading in the direction of his own room, your cheeks still buzzing with a faint warmth. "Night..." you mumbled once the door had been shut, lazily making your way to the bed and dropping down on it the second you could.
Why does he make me feel like this?
-
Leaves flew from beneath your feet as you ran, chest aching immensely from how fast you were running. Your breaths were foggy and the air crisp, the cold nipping at your flesh while snow sliced your bare feet into a bleeding mess, but the pain was ignored. You knew if you stopped running for even a moment, your life would surely reach its end. You knew that you wouldn't be able to keep running for much longer though. The blood left in your footsteps made it all too easy for the predator to find you. You had no idea what it was. You just knew that it would catch you.
Its quick strides resounded through the forest, allowing you to register that this was no animal, but human; a man, presumably. You didn't know why he was chasing you though. You didn't even know who he was, but he didn't seem to care. For him, that was the thrill of the chase. What fun is the hunt if the prey doesn't struggle? That's what you were always told at least.
A protruding branch on a tree caught your bicep and tore through your skin, causing more blood to discharge from your body. Jesus, if that man doesn't get me, this blood loss will, you thought as you kept running, hoping to brighten the situation even if only just a small amount. But, of course, those attempts were futile.
"Come now," words echoed, layered with what seemed to be the voices of a million different people. "I only want to play a little!" That man — no — that thing was going to catch you. There was no denying that. Your legs couldn't hold you anymore, your lungs screamed for air as your knees buckled, sending you into the snow. The icy substance raked at your skin, tiny trickles of blood rolling down your cheek, but at that point you had simply accepted what was to come, your hands balling into fists as you rolled onto your back to face your pursuer.
"There you are," the voices invaded your mind. Each one sounded of someone different — you could have sworn that Alastor's voice was there too. "Such a sweet little doe," the thing laughed, your eyes darting to where its face would have been just to see nothing there, only a blur of where one's facial features should be.
It was smiling. It had no mouth, but it was smiling. If there was one thing you were certain about, it was that.
"Aw, how precious. Be sure to keep that adorable little face when I meet you in Hell."
-
You shot up from the bed, sweat pouring down your icy skin as you panted, a good moment passing by as you registered that this was not your room. The bed was far too large, the blankets were almost too cozy, your panicked gaze darting around the area while the nightmare slowly dissipated in your mind. Those words still lingered though, refusing to leave.
Such a sweet little doe.
What kind of a nickname was that? And why would you dream of such a morbid situation?
Your hands were shaking. You could feel them, so instinctively you balled your hands into fists, digging your nails in the skin of your palm. You're okay. You're okay, (Y/n). You'll be okay.
Slowly, you slid out of the bed, the feverish chill of the room immediately latching onto your skin and causing you to shiver, your feet beginning to ache against the cold planks. Despite that, you kept walking until you made it to the door of your room, a soft sigh being released from your chest.
Heading down the winding corridor, you couldn't help but feel as if you were being watched, each step you took being judged and mocked by some invisible forces. Something that you would never lay eyes upon, yet you knew was there, laughing at something you did that wasn't even funny.
Alastor's door seemed to loom over your tiny figure, menacing and skeptical of why you were there to begin with. The lump in your throat was swallowed like a large pill, your hands still trembling as you gently rapped your knuckles against the door. Your heart slammed within your chest. Why the hell were you so nervous? You were just going to visit your friend's room in the middle of the night. Nothing more.
You heard some shuffling before the door opened to reveal Alastor still completely clothed, save for the missing bowtie and the first few buttons of his white dress shirt being undone. His brow raised curiously. "Something the matter, sweetheart? It's three in the morning," Alastor stated calmly while he kept the door held open. "I, uh..." you hesitated, looking at how he was still dressed. "I had some night terrors... Why are you in your clothes?" The subject was shifted to something new, the man's smile growing.
"Because it would be rude to answer the door nude," he winked jokingly, "and because I haven't changed yet. I'm more of a night owl." Alastor opened the door further for you. "I was just about to hit the hay, but if you would like to talk about your nightmare, I can make a little more time," he cooed, watching as you hesitantly stepped into his room.
It was larger than your temporary one by a good amount, a deer head hung on the wall above his four post bed; its white fur was illuminated by a glow from the other side of the room. There was a fire crackling in the gaping maw of a fireplace, a little smaller than the one in the living room, but still nicely sized. The window on the far side of the room was cracked open in the slightest, a light draft blowing in and cooling the room, which simply raised the question as to why he had the fire lit when he could just close the window.
"I actually don't feel like talking about it," you mumbled, rubbing your arms. Alastor followed you after closing the door, his hand placing itself on your shoulder and guiding you to his king-sized bed. "Well then why don't you get settled in. I'll just go and change into something a little more appropriate," he announced and took some nightwear from the end of the bed, proceeding to make his way to the bathroom. It was going to be a few moments before he returned so you hesitantly climbed onto the bed, a shiver passing through your bones as the draft blew past your body.
At that, you slithered under the covers, making sure you didn't take up too much space by staying at the edge of the bed, your body still quivering a little from the aftershock of that awful dream you endured. "Apologies for keeping you waiting," Alastor said as he wandered out of the bathroom, his fingers buttoning his shirt up halfway before he stopped and headed for the opposite side of the bed.
"Oh, darling!" he yelped, grabbing you by the waist and pulling you away from the edge of the bed. "Don't stay there; you'll fall!" Alastor slowly let go of you, your skin immediately going cold from the absence of his touch. "Try and get some rest, alright? We have a big day tomorrow and-"
"Can you hold me?" you cut your friend off, his speech faltering at your sudden query.
"If that's what you'd like," he murmured, carefully wrapping his arms around your waist again and drawing you into his chest, his breaths shaking. "Feeling alright?" he asked before you nodded to his question. "Thank you, Alastor."
"You thank me for too many things," your friend laughed. Again, you nodded, relaxing into the man's touch. His grip tightened, holding you to his warmth.
"Goodnight, Al."
"Goodnight, (Y/n)."
{3212 words}