The pentagram shone bright, the silhouette of winged demons whisking past Alastor's vision as he held a Chesterfield to his lips. His eyes were heavy and the smile upon his face was small as he stared out at the city below from the hotel's roof. It was a nice spot to get away from people, and he often found himself retreating to the roof for a smoke in silence, grayish red fumes leaking out of his mouth when he exhaled. Nights where the pentagram was so bright were rare, but when they happened, he took the occasion to slither off, away from the rest of the staff so he could relax and stargaze.
Stars in Hell did not exist. However, there were small, red dots of different shades that shone like the pentagram, mimicking the beautiful sight that one would see during a clear night on Earth. He missed those days dearly, never having realized how much he had taken the sky for granted when he was alive until he had fallen here. The last time he had seen the stars had been when he was burying you, but that wasn't a memory he wished to dwell upon for the time being. For now, he just wanted to let his mind wander, see where his thoughts would take him.
The sleeves of his black dress shirt were rolled up just past his elbows, revealing the pale scars on his charcoal colored arms. Each marking spoke of a different story; a different battle he fought and made it out alive to tell the tale. Whether that tale be of him fighting for his life against another powerful overlord or him simply being foolish while making supper was irrelevant. They were both tales to tell. Deeper, more aggressive scars on the underside of his forearm caught his eye and he quickly moved his attention back to the deep red sky in front him, not wanting to cross that moment of his time down here again.
Ashes from the cigarette betwixt his fingers fell from where he was holding the small stick over the railing, quickly being stolen away by the gentle breeze and carried off to another corner of the pentagram, never to be acknowledged by another soul ever again. Odd how that worked. Just like when one throws a stone into the ocean from the side of their boat; nobody is going to ever see that stone again. The sea will have swallowed it and claimed it as its own land. Perhaps hundreds of thousands of fish will swim by it every day, but to them, it's just a part of their environment. They don't care that it exists.
A heavy breath of air left his lungs, his already weak smile opting to fall to a neutral look on his face. It twitched a little in a final attempt of remaining held, but it soon dropped, only a thin line of lacking emotion taking its place. The last of his cigarette was extinguished between his thumb and forefinger, the small roll of paper being flicked away from him before he reached for the deck in his pocket and slid a new one out, already beginning to flick his thumb up to light the flame.
It was a nice thought knowing that he couldn't get lung cancer and die a second time. When he was alive, he smoked at least three cigarettes a day, his maximum having gone to six, which genuinely wasn't many compared to how many some of his colleagues smoked. Now in Hell, he took it upon himself to smoke a little less. It was often he went hours or even days without pulling a gasper from a pack, but now seemed like an appropriate time to let loose a little, what, with you coming back and the both of you still getting used to the situation. Especially with Gabriel practically gluing himself to your side like a parasite. Never let him and you have a moment to yourselves without butting in and forcing Alastor away.
He didn't like that too much, and he couldn't even harvest blood from him since he was an Archangel, making it a bit of a lose-lose situation for Alastor. You, however, well, you had regular ichor of which he could harvest if he wished to.
Maybe he would, but he wouldn't tie you up and feed on you like some sort of animal, good heavens no; but maybe causing small injuries, or whenever you accidentally hurt yourself he could take advantage of that until he had enough gathered in a vial. Then he could finally be rid of Lucifer and take the throne, despite Charlie's rank. He would be more powerful than her too, so it wouldn't be worth anything if she were to try and fend him off.
God, what am I thinking? Using her like that. Maybe once upon a time he could have brought himself to be so viciously cruel with you, but not now after so much had happened. He didn't want to hurt you. So, I let her get into minor incidents and simply take the leftovers.
That seemed like a decent plan. Then he wouldn't need to hurt you to take what he desired. Quite a few things I desire from that woman, anyway. The thought was shaken off and he lifted his fresh cigarette up to his lips so he could take a drag at it, the ears atop his head flicking every now and then at the sound of the occasional cry ringing out from the city below.
Yelling, arguing, and fist fighting; it all took place just downstairs. "He stole my bitch" this and "I'm not the one that hot-wired your car and crashed it into a flower shop" that. It truly was never ending, but Alastor didn't mind. It made for some rather mediocre entertainment, though it was entertainment all the less.
Just what he needed on a night like this. Two weeks already, eh? It had already been a full two weeks since you had joined the hotel's staff, regularly spending time with Alastor and enjoying the company he offered. As previously stated though, his moments with you were not uncommonly interrupted by Gabriel's overprotective behavior over you.
Once I get my hands on that blood, I can be rid of him as well, he gruesomely thought to himself, a smile forming upon his face once again at the thought of being able to kill one of the pure Archangels, Luifcer following. Such an oddly pleasant fantasy.
A river of scarlet smoke rose from the end of his cancer stick, the city lights in the distance reflecting off his gaze. A soft wind tangled its wiry fingers through his soft, red locks, toying with them and causing them to wrap around his black antlers. A strange feature he got upon arriving in Hell. He never fully understood why he had taken this form. His first initial thought was that it was because of Zandor, but the Loa had explained that he took on the shape that Alastor would retrieve when death stole him from the living realm.
The other theory was that it was because he had enjoyed hunting game during life, but the one that really struck him as the most probable was the way he had died. A bullet wound between his eyes. Hunted like game. Such a pathetic way to die, he inwardly snarled at himself, another drag of the gasper helping him calm his nerves in the slightest. Suppose that death was better than living until he was sixty and dying pent up in some big house. Or being sentenced to death by the courtroom. Those would have both been far more pathetic than being shot like a stag in the woods.
His ears swiveled in the direction of the door leading to the roof when he heard it click open, his head turning so he could see who had decided to join him on the roof. Gaze softening upon seeing your form, he inhaled the fumes of his cigarette one more time before putting it out and flicking it away from the balcony, the sleeves of his dress shirt rolling down with a click of his fingers to cover the scars. Much like how he used to cover his hands in the over world.
"Evening, my darling," he called to you just as you began approaching him. "Hi, Al," you whispered with the faintest of smiles on your face. You had a feeling he'd be up here. Knowing he wasn't one to rest in life and that demon's didn't necessarily need sleep, he was most likely wandering the hotel somewhere. "I see you've found my little hangout," Alastor joked, opening a box of mints and setting one of the small, white tablets in his mouth. He didn't want you to be overwhelmed by the smell of smoke on his breath.
"It's a nice spot, I must admit," you sidled up beside him near the railing and gazed up at the shining pentagram, its crimson light tainting your wings a ruby color. Alastor turned so that he was leaning his front against the wrought iron railing like you were, his warm smile genuine as he spoke, "What's got you up so late, my beloved?" You shrugged, a gust of wind sending a cold chill along your spine and causing you to shiver a little.
"Just wanted to have a chat with you without needing to worry about Gabriel hauling me away," a light giggle escaped you, Alastor's body shifting to be closer to yours. "Aw, coming to search for me? You're flattering, doll," he cooed while resting his chin in the palm of his hand. You gave him a dramatic eye roll, "Yeah, it's a bit pathetic. But what can I say? I wanted to talk to you." Hesitantly, you leaned your head upon his shoulder, immediately feeling yourself relax.
"You're just as adorable as I remember," Alastor chuckled and slid his arm around you, pulling you close for a side hug. Silence followed his words, your eyes fixated on the stars above. "They aren't real, are they?" you asked knowingly, the stag's hand rubbing your right shoulder comfortingly. "No, I'm afraid not. But that doesn't make them any less beautiful."
He shot a quick glance down at you, slowly moving to rest his head on top of yours. Your heart began slamming against your chest, heat rising to your face while guilt dragged its claws along your belly, your attention remaining fixed on the stars. "We can't be together. You know that, right?" you whispered, Alastor's grip growing tight.
"If Gabriel found out, well, he's as loyal as they get. He'd tell the Higher Guard."
"So, then he won't find out. None of them will," the sinner breathed, taking a step back from the railing so he could stand behind you. His hands leisurely slid along your arms until his fingers found yours and they intertwined; a soft, jazzy tune suddenly began to play from Alastor's microphone, which had manifested against the railing where he was once standing.
"We can keep it a secret," he murmured next to your ear as he slowly began swaying to the calm rhythm with you. "You know how good I am at keeping secrets. We can both be happy if we do." Your body moved perfectly in sync with his, his chin resting on your shoulder while he kept your fingers locked. "I want to be by your side, (Y/n). And I want you to be by mine." He twirled you around, quickly pinning your back up against his chest once more. Each step he took followed the beat of the slow jazz, his hips swaying with yours as you mulled over the offer.
"But if he finds out..." you trailed off, a soft kiss being planted on your neck. "He won't find anything out. This'll all be okay, my love," he purred and spun you again, this time so you would be chest-to-chest, face-to-face. "I'll make sure he doesn't find out. Please, (Y/n). I need you," his voice dropped to a desperate plea, your hands moving up his torso and locking behind his neck. "Alright, Alastor. You have one chance to make up for what happened on Earth. One chance, so please don't let it slip."
"I'll do everything in my power," he smiled, tears just barely glistening in his gaze. His hands cupped your round cheeks before he brought your face closer to his, silently asking for the permission he needed with his scarlet red eyes before you slowly blinked in approval, his lips gently pressing themselves to yours in a soft kiss.
The faint taste of tobacco and mint rested on his lips, but you didn't exactly mind. It had been such a long time since you last held someone like this. Since you last held him like this. Not breaking the kiss, he pushed you against the railing, one hand slithering down to your waist while the other kept a hold on your back, having you pressed flush against him while he savored your familiar taste.
Alastor soon pulled back for a breath of air, his eyelids lowered while he panted softly. "I missed that," he chuckled and gave you another quick peck on the nose after having released you from his hold. "Now," his hands clasped together as he stood upright, smiling just as wide as he normally did. "I believe it's about time you got to bed. It's getting rather late, and I don't wish for you to be in a sour mood tomorrow morning." With those words having left his mouth, he led you off the roof and to your room, bidding you a farewell before retreating to his own chambers for the rest of the night.
-
The next morning, after you had woken up and gotten ready for the day, you were greeted in the lobby by the sounds of people hollering at each other and a frightened Angel Dust running around after his pet pig, trying not to get underfoot of the screaming Vaggie and very unamused-looking Alastor. Gabriel and Husk were both just watching from the bar, all of Gabriel's eyes squinted in confusion.
"So, what happened this time?" you whispered to your friend and snaked your way up onto a barstool. Gabriel shook his head, never taking his eyes off the situation at hand. "I think...Vaggie was scolding him for breaking something," he said, though there was absolutely no certainty behind his words. "And then I think the pig came running in from upstairs, and then Vaggie got mad over that, Alastor called it breakfast, Angel screamed at him, Vaggie screamed at Angel, Alastor yelled at Vaggie, and the pig broke another two vases."
Slowly, you nodded, not quite understanding the situation either. Charlie was standing in the corner, tapping her sides with the palms of her hands while she watched the whole scene play out.
Just as the small moth demon was about to yell something else to Alastor (most likely an insult), the Radio Demon's fiery red gaze shifted to you and he shoved the princess' fiancée away from him. "Ah, (Y/n), my darling! Glad you're awake!" he laughed and strolled over to you, Vaggie's scowl never quelling as she wandered back over to Charlie, who gave her a big hug of comfort. Angel caught his pig and hastily left the lobby, not wanting to be scolded.
You grinned at the stag as he sat up on the stool beside you, his smile never ceasing in the slightest. "There are some croissants and whatnot in the kitchen if you're hungry. Niffty also managed to fix the coffee maker, so that's now also an option," he explained. One of Gabriel's hands settled on your shoulder, pulling you back a little. The glare that Alastor shot him was only brief, hell, you would have missed it if you hadn't been so fixated on his eyes, but it was there and you had to force back a giggle.
"Alright, I guess I'll go have some breakfast then," you decided and hopped off the high-stool. "Care to join me?" Alastor sighed, also getting off his chair, adjusting his bowtie and brushing out the wrinkles in his overcoat. "I would love to, doll, but my broadcast starts in five and I still have to get everything set up. But if you need anything, you remember that my tower is just on the-"
"Eleventh floor, yes she knows," Gabriel sneered and began leading you away from the sinner, though Alastor seemed unbothered.
He just gave you a small wave and vanished, your face heating up in the slightest.
"I don't understand how you could have ever been attracted to such a cocky man," your friend suddenly hissed when the both of you entered the kitchen. "I mean, he thinks he's better than everyone else! And just because he's an overlord? He's childish." You frowned and approached the table where there were croissants (as Alastor had stated) and some muffins.
"He wasn't so cocky when we were alive, but yes, he definitely was quite full of himself back then as well." Gabriel huffed and leaned against the wall, his wings pushed down and spread out so they wouldn't be crushed. "I just...was he really that amazing, (Y/n)? I mean, I know I've said this so many times, but don't you think it's time to move on?" Your jaw clenched, knowing that wasn't a possibility. Not anymore.
"Fine," you lied and headed for the coffee machine after you had picked up one of the muffins and set it on a plate. Gabriel watched you with mild shock. "You mean that? I'm not going to come into your room tonight and find you bawling your eyes out again?" he asked and approached you while the mechanism began grinding the coffee beans to make your beverage. A simple nod seemed to suffice, a smile appearing on your friend's face. "You won't regret this, (Y/n)." I already am.
"Uh-huh. Look, Charlie and I have things to do regarding the hotel, so why don't you go and hang out with Husk for the day? Get to know him a little better," you offered calmly, taking the filled mug out from beneath the coffee maker and lifting the warm drink to your lips. Gabriel grinned and left the kitchen, leaving you with your thoughts until you spotted the aged radio sitting peacefully on the kitchen counter.
"Ah, what the hell. It's been a while anyway," you told yourself and switched the old device on, allowing yourself to loosen at the relaxing sound of his voice. Static-filled, yet there was that smoothness that rang with it that just managed to hit your ears right. Oh, how you loved that man.
{3166 words}