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𝐂𝐚𝐮𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐨𝐧 𝐀𝐢𝐫 - Part 3

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3

Pairings: Alastor x female reader Summary: Although Angel Dust advised you to wait a few days before you talk to Alastor, you still pull together all your strength and confront him. Warnings/Tags: female reader, mutual pining, alcohol consumption, drunk reader, reader is bisexual, jealous Alastor, hurt/comfort, emotional rollercoaster, miscommunication, drunk communication, Alastor being a lil shit, confessions, Alastor is bad at feelings, tears, and other tags that would be spoilers but aren't considered warnings Wordcount: 12k A/N: FINALLY IT’S HERE!!! 🎉🎉🎉 After months of waiting, the grand finale of ‘Caught on Air’ has finally arrived! I already warned you this chapter would be massive, and I wasn’t kidding. Brace yourselves for a 12k-word emotional rollercoaster that took me half a year to complete. (Honestly, my hyperfixation may have wavered a bit along the way… but hey, better late than never, right?) I’ll be honest – I have mixed feelings about the ending. It feels a little forced, and the writing might also be a bit choppy, but despite that, I truly hope it was worth the time waiting. Now, without further ado… enjoy! And don’t forget to leave a comment because I’d really like to know what you think.

Masterlist

With a deep breath you reentered the club. Your heart pumped against your chest like a jackhammer, the rush of blood vibrating through your veins. To say you felt nauseous was an understatement – your stomach twisted and turned, guts tightening with almost painful pressure.

The more you thought about what you were about to do, the more doubts crept into your mind, telling you that this wasn't a good idea. Angel had told you to wait a few more days – to let the embarrassment of the hallway encounter die down and to sober up from your intoxicated, emotional state before you took matters in your hands. The risk of things spiraling out of hand was too high – yet you knew you had to do this. You couldn't postpone this conversation any longer if you wanted to keep your sanity. Your inner turmoil was already gnawing at your insides like a rodent that desperately wanted to escape its cage. And you didn't want that rodent to harm you any longer with its sharp, painful claws.

Angel Dust hit the nail in the head when he said you and Alastor were dancing around each other for far too long. You couldn't even remember when all of this started – when you first perceived his physical proximity not as what it was, a simple lingering touch or a flick to your nose, but as something that send shivers crawling up your spine and put you into a state that almost spiralled you out of control whenever it happened. Alastor has been anchored in your head for months now, taking over your thoughts and dreams and pushing you further into these odd cravings of his attention, his closeness, his fleeting touch… If Angel was right and the subtle signals Alastor sent were something to go by, there really was a chance that, perhaps, he was pining for you too. However, you knew the burden of making the first move rested on your shoulders. Because Alastor, emotionally constipated and guarded as he was, would never willingly put himself into such a vulnerable position. No, that wasn't his style. But you? You'd fall into his arms without hesitation, even knowing the risk of heartbreak. And tonight was the night you'd find out if Alastor truly reciprocated your feelings or if you were destined for yet another painful rejection. It was a gamble – a desperate reckless gamble – but one you were willing to take. Still, the clarity of your decision didn't ease your nerves. On the contrary, it made you feel even more agitated. The beating of your heart increasing, your breath hitching.

You'll regret this. You'll definitely regret this, you told yourself repeatedly, thoughts racing like a whirlwind as you approached the main room. But before you could even get close, you froze mid-step and sank against one of the walls in the hallway. Deep, shaky breaths filled your lungs while you tried to count numbers – but your mind always returned to Alastor and complicated situations. You shot a quick glance to the very spot where he had caught you pressed against the wall by Selena and closed your eyes to erase the images that appeared in front of your eyes. Another deep breath, but this time you held it in. Fingers fidgeted restless with each other, while you tried to gain some control over your shaking breaths and the visible tremble of your body.

Breathe in…

Breathe out…

Breathe in…

This is going to be terrible.

Your eyes snapped open almost instantly, then a deep groan of despair escaped your throat. Faces of other demons who passed by fleetingly turned into your direction and they regarded you with cocked eyebrows and disgusted expressions, but you only shot them a glare. Not helping.

Where had that confidence gone? Only minutes ago, you'd been determined to push through, march up to Alastor, and finally confront him. You'd been lamenting your situation almost the whole evening and now you got the jitters?

Were you just anxious about his reaction, that he might push you away or worse – laugh in your face? Or was it your intuition warning you to better keep such a sensitive subject to yourself?

You understood Alastor's complicated personality well enough to be aware of his unpredictability and that pondering about his reaction wasn't helpful. It would only increase your discomfort, your anxiety, the crippling feeling inside your chest that made you want to throw up and just turn around and walk home.

“He’s been starin’ at ya all night – and not just tonight, but for a while now,” Angel's voice reverberated in your head and you swallowed as you suddenly remembered even more words the spider demon said, “Also, ya never noticed the way he handles ya? Caressin’ ya cheek like silk, toots. That guy’s all over you. And you never noticed?!”

You took a deep breath. This has been a statement so convincing, it has given you enough strength to at least consider approaching Alastor. Because deep down you knew that Angel was right. He was always right about matters like this. It’s as if he had some kind of a sixth sense for affectionate behavior – even if it was as subtle as Alastor tried to keep all the hints that might give away what he thought or felt. He wore that mask like he was born with it, with such infuriating ease.

He won’t come at you first, you thought again and swallowed because you knew you were right. He would never approach you first, let alone talk about such an emotional topic that would put him in a vulnerable position and would most probably lead to a lack of control. Would he try to avoid the topic? Would he respond with cryptic and unhelpful responses? Most probably. You had to be prepared for anything that might not be the answer you seeked.

Wait – didn't you just come to the conclusion that it was unhelpful to ponder his response? Damn. You were a mess. Maybe you should really take your time and wait until the right moment come. But what if it never came?

Fuck.

This was too much for what was supposed to be nothing but a simple night out to enjoy with your friends and colleagues. Drinking, laughing, dancing. That was the original plan. Not kissing a stranger, get caught by no other than Alastor himself and have an emotional breakdown over this situation for the rest of the evening just because you were blinded by love and convinced his reaction was out of character.

With a painful bite into your lip you stifled a scream that was so close to free itself from its confines deep within that hurricane made from desperation and uncertainty. But not even the ache as you pierced your skin did soothe your nerves. Not even the metallic taste of blood on your tongue distracted the whirlwind of thoughts for even a second. Maybe you really, truly, actually were going insane. That’s why you needed to take that step. No matter how dangerous it was, how high the probability was that the evening would end in one of the worst heartbreaks of your whole existence. Because never before had you felt such alarming kinds of feelings for someone – or at least you couldn’t remember.

You had to do this.

You really had to do this.

It was now or never.

Now or never.

Now or never…

Before you could even process your thoughts, you suddenly found yourself standing in front of the lounge area. The lively crowd around you was lost in their own world made of carefree joy that it sharply contrasted the chaos inside your head. The lighthearted chatter and music that filled the space around you seemed so distant, like another world entirely. How in the Hell had you even ended up here? You didn’t know. Everything felt like a blur, as if your feet had moved without your permission, carrying you to this place without any real intention.

With a deep breath, you scanned the surrounding seats and tables until your eyes fell on a familiar demon with a red pinstripe coat and striking red hair. He sat there with a drink in his hand, his posture almost painfully straight and a toothy grin plastered on his face that was as hard to read as always. Maybe you should get something to drink first. If this conversation really turned out as uncomfortable and embarrassing as you expected, you could at least drown your embarrassment in alcohol. Only a few hours and you’ve sunk so low…

Without further hesitation you walked over to the very bar that has fulfilled your social need over the course of this whole evening. First, you’ve met Selena as you stood here, a little too alcohol infused, then you spend at least one hour yapping at Angel about that annoying topic you just now decided to call ‘the radio dilemma’.

“Watcha wanna drink?” the barkeeper suddenly asked, interrupting your train of thoughts and you blinked a few times as you tried to quickly come up with an idea.

“Uhm…” you hesitated. “Something strong. I don’t really care. Surprise me.”

The barkeeper nodded as if he’d heard that very same request dozens of times before and turned away. While you waited for him to prepare your mystery drink, you turned around and scanned the surroundings again. You noticed Angel Dust in the distance, caught up in a conversation with Husk who seemed anything but pleased with the way the spider leaned into his personal space, winking and waving his hands in suggestive gestures. You rolled your eyes and continued your survey until you found the other residents. Charlie and Vaggie were seated in a different lounge area, excitedly chatting with an unknown individual who – much like Husk – seemed to be wishing himself far away. Without question another of Charlie’s desperate attempts to hire new guests.

With a snicker, you watched them for a few more seconds until you moved your gaze away, quickly looking over to Alastor who hasn’t moved an inch since you last looked at him.

A poke into your shoulder and you got ripped out of your thoughts for the nth time tonight. “Ahm… girl?”

You spun around, confused, then smiled shyly as you recognized the barkeeper who looked at you with annoyance.

“Your drink,” he mumbled, handing you a glass with some colorful creamy contents.

“Thank you,” you responded. Drinking card held out, sum crossed out. Then, with the new drink in hand, you slipped away to the lounge area Alastor was seated in.

A glance at him, a deep breath. It was now or never.

Now.

Or never.

Approaching him, you nervously cleared your throat and took a sip from your drink. “Uhm… Alastor?”

Immediately, his gaze snapped to you, and your heart skipped a beat. His crimson eyes seemed to bore into your soul with a chilling intensity, leaving you frozen under their weight as you fought to keep your fragile composure. You swallowed hard, trying to ease the lump forming in your throat, and unconsciously tightened your grip on your cocktail as if it could somehow lend you the strength you so desperately needed to hold this conversation.

“Ah, cher, back from your... escapades, are we?” Alastor's sharp voice cut through the ambient music, his grin stretching wider, revealing the dangerous sets of sharp teeth behind his thin lips. Yet it didn’t reach his eyes. “To what do I owe this unexpected pleasure?” His words were laced with exaggerated cheer, but the sharp edge beneath his tone betrayed him.

You bit your lip. The sting of your fangs piercing the delicate skin grounded you for a moment as guilt welled up inside you. So he was upset. Of course he was – you’d been avoiding him all evening, despite being the one to convince him to come to this club in the first place. So your concern from earlier was actually justified…

Letting out a sigh, you turned your face away, unable to meet his fiery gaze that seemed to pierce through every wall you had carefully built. His crimson eyes burned with an intensity that felt impossible to withstand. “Look, I’m sorry, Alastor. I didn’t mean to ignore you, I–”

“Got distracted by your dear friend, hmm?” he interjected with a dry, clipped laugh, his tone hovering between sardonic amusement and something far more cutting.

Heat surged into your cheeks at his blunt acknowledgment of the obvious, staining your face with a red hue which you hoped he’d attribute to the alcohol coursing through your veins. But even as embarrassment threatened to pin you down, you forced yourself to face him again, meeting his unyielding grin with narrowed eyes. “Don’t do that,” you said, your voice tight with irritation and a faint edge of pleading. The emotional toll of the evening had already pushed your nerves to their limit, leaving little patience for his games.

Alastor tilted his head, his grin never faltering. You could see the wheels turning in his head as he prepared another witty retort. But before he could speak, you raised a hand sharply to cut him off, a rare assertiveness seeping into your voice, “Don’t you dare guilt-trip me. I can’t… I can’t deal with that right now.”

Taking a deep, shaky breath, you dropped your gaze to the drink in your hand, the glass suddenly the most interesting thing in the room. Biting down on the straw, you took a long sip of your Piña Colada, letting its sweet, tropical flavor momentarily distract you. But the weight of his gaze quickly dragged you back to reality, and you forced yourself to continue. “I came here to apologize and to–”

“To what?” he pressed, his tone sharp enough to make your heart skip a beat.

“Could you please stop interrupting me?!” you snapped, frustration bubbling over, and the sharpness in your voice surprised even yourself. “It’s already hard enough for me to approach you at all! Not that talking to you is hard – it’s just…” You faltered, searching for the right words before your voice grew softer, “I’m sorry. For everything. I didn’t mean to forget about you and… and I didn’t mean for you to see me with Selena…”

Your voice trailed off into a whisper as shame washed over you. You could feel his gaze burn into you, stripping away every layer of composure you tried to cling to and the silence between you grew heavy, charged with tension. Somewhere in the back of your mind, a voice whispered that he was enjoying your discomfort. Sadistic prick he was, relishing every second of your vulnerability…

Suddenly, his chuckle broke the quiet, a sound that was equal parts infuriating and oddly reassuring, yet confirmed your assumption. You turned to him, disbelief etched across your face. “Are you seriously laughing right now?”

Alastor leaned back in his seat, his expression smug as his shoulders shook with quiet amusement. Then, with a dismissive wave of his hand, he said, “My dear, I’m just messing with you.”

You blinked, stunned by his words.

His grin widened with sadistic glee before softening. Though ‘soft’ for Alastor was still a far cry from genuine kindness. He was a narcissistic asshole after all and while that thought crossed your mind, you questioned for a quick second why it had to be him out of all denizens in Hell who made your heart flutter and heat rise into your cheeks with the mere notion of his proximity. Maybe – just maybe – if this conversation turned out to be an absolute catastrophe, you could hold onto that thought while you fought to get over him and his (most probably) heartless rejection.

You resisted the urge to shake your head and instead chewed on your lip for the nth time this evening. You were overthinking again.

The static in Alastor’s voice faded slightly as he raised his glass in a casual toast. “And you seem to forget that I’ve already told you there’s no need to apologize. You’re free to do whatever – or whoever – you please.”

Despite his jab, his words cut deeper than you expected, leaving a dull ache in your chest. You looked down at your drink, swirling the liquid absently as you tried to gather your thoughts. “It’s not that simple, Alastor…”

“Oh?” His grin turned curious, a spark of something unreadable flashing in his crimson eyes. “Then, by all means, do enlighten me.”

You let out a deep sigh and focused your attention again on the glass clutched between your hands. He really had to make this anything but easy for you… Swallowing once, twice, you held your breath for a minute while your thoughts roamed in a chaotic mess you barely managed to sort through. It was so much – so much you wanted and needed to say but didn’t find the courage for because the possibility of messing everything up was so high you felt as if balancing on threads that might rip every second – and your friendship with the other demon apart with them. He was your friend, right…?

For fucks sake, you couldn’t even be sure about that, could you? You and Alastor were close and distant at the same time. He let you in while pushing you further away with every glimpse he allowed you to take behind his facade, yet there were days he approached you with such softness it made you melt away like ice in a desert.

‘Caressin’ ya cheek like silk, toots’, Angel’s words reverberated in your head again, almost mocking you in your insecurity. Why did feelings have to be so complicated? Why was the man in front of you so complicated? Why couldn’t he just let you be sure he cared for you the way you cared for him? And if not with the same intensity you did, then at least in a platonic way? Memories of tender moments between you and Alastor flashed before your eyes. How he smiled at you when he thought no one would see, how he teased you in a way that resembled the playful love between siblings, yet carried a warmth and depth that hinted at something far more intimate in the quietest of moments.

‘He’s all over you’. Yet, he pushed you away every time after he allowed you to see a part of him no one else knew existed. He would shove you away, retreating into his familiar mask of indifference and control, leaving you grasping at the fragments of the connection that had felt so real in the fleeting moments before. The distance he placed between you left your heart feeling like an empty shell, hollow and abandoned, drained of all its vital crimson blood.

“Don’t pretend you don’t care,” you murmured without thinking, the words slipping out before you could stop them. As soon as they hung in the air, regret struck like a lightning bolt. You kept your gaze locked on your drink, avoiding the weight of his reaction. What has possessed you to say that?

You didn’t notice how his ears twitched slightly and betrayed the flicker of interest your words sparked. He cocked his head, his brows knitted together just enough to convey confusion without a hint of condescension. “Pardon?” he asked, his tone calm but inquisitive.

You blinked, mentally kicking yourself for your loose tongue. Sucking in a breath, you bit down on your lower lip, stealing a moment to gather your courage. Slowly, you lifted your gaze to meet his, only to find genuine puzzlement etched across his features. The rare glimpse of unguarded confusion startled you, momentarily breaking the tension tightening your chest.

“What I mean is…” you began, your voice shaky as you straightened your back in a weak attempt to project confidence. “You seem upset.”

“Upset?” He laughed, the sound buzzing with static. “Why, whatever gave you that idea?” His already arched brow lifted higher, and the flicker of amusement in his crimson eyes made your heart skip a beat before it increased the speed with which it hammered in your chest. Every instinct screamed for you to retreat, to stand up from your seat and flee the conversation entirely. But you needed answers. So you stayed in your seat despite the battle raging in your head, clutching your drink tighter and holding onto the glass like a lifeline – knuckles white from the pressure. You must’ve looked pathetic – sitting there in front of the Radio Demon, all flustered and fragile, about to spill out your heart to him of all people.

“Look, Alastor…” you began again, clearing your throat with a forced cough to mask your nerves. “I noticed your discomfort when… well, you know…”

“When I caught you in the middle of a tryst?” he finished for you, the words rolling off his tongue with unnerving ease, his smile stretching wider again.

Your mouth opened to object, but the words died before they could form. Closing it again, you lowered your gaze, too embarrassed to respond.

A soft chuckle broke the silence like static crackling on an old radio. His expression softened, the mask of unbothered amusement sliding effortlessly back into place. Waving a hand as if brushing away your awkwardness, he said, “My dear, you seem to forget that I come from a time when such… frivolities… were considered scandalous. Particularly in public venues.” His tone was light and dismissive, but as he spoke, you caught the faintest twitch at the corner of his mouth and a flicker in his ears that betrayed something deeper beneath the surface.

“Are you sure it’s only that?” you asked, narrowing your eyes, unconvinced. You knew he was a master of masking his emotions, but tonight, you were determined to push past his defenses, pull away the mask and expose what lay beneath. Or at least, that’s what you originally had intended because your momentary lack of self-confidence made it anything but easy.

Alastor tilted his head again, his thick red hair shifting with the motion, and blinked at you as though genuinely surprised. But you weren’t fooled. Something about his reaction only strengthened your resolve, the feeling that told you there was more to his behavior than he let on. For once, you weren’t going to let him sidestep the issue. Not this time.

“I noticed the way you looked at me in the hallway,” you pressed, your voice steady despite the tightness in your chest. “And I see how you’re looking at me now. That wasn’t just startled… or dismissive…”

“Oh?” His ears perked up. “Then, pray tell, what is it you're so convinced to be seeing?” he challenged, his tone as smooth as silk as he leaned slightly forward, resting his chin on his interlocked fingers. “You’re a grown woman, free to make your own choices. If anything, I found it… amusing.”

“You don’t have to act like it didn’t bother you,” you deadpanned, your gaze unrelenting.

Another dry laugh escaped his throat and his grin broadened to reveal the sharp gleam of his teeth.

“You were upset,” you pressed, “and now you’re just trying to laugh it off like it didn’t matter.”

“Because it doesn't.”

You blinked, unsure how to interpret his words. Was this another one of his typically dismissive retorts, or was there a kernel of truth in what he’d said? Before you could decipher their meaning, he continued, his voice soft but edged with something you couldn’t quite place.

“If you’re hoping for some dramatic confession, my dear, you’ll find none here,” he said, his crimson gaze boring into yours with dangerous intensity. “Whatever you think you saw was merely a fragment of your imagination. I assure you, I was… mildly inconvenienced at best.”

You felt every single of his words cut through your chest and right into your heart, sharp and fast like a killer’s knife, and you clenched your jaw. “You don’t mean that.” Your voice was low, almost weak.

“What would you have me say, my dear?” he asked, narrowing his eyes as his gaze dug through every layer of your (not so) well-maintained facade. “That I was overcome with jealousy? That watching you with her left me boiling with rage? Such melodrama!” He paused for a moment, the silence between you seemingly stretching to eternity even though it didn’t linger longer than just a few meaningless seconds. The sharpness and intensity of his gaze made your blood run cold and you held your breath, anxious about what came next.

“Jealousy,” he mused, his voice dropping an octave as the dangerous glint in his eyes momentarily faded. “Such a petty emotion. Hardly fitting for someone like me, wouldn’t you agree?”

“Stop it,” you interjected sharply, but Alastor ignored you, pressing on with his cutting monologue.

“And you, my dear, are clearly drunk. Intoxicated to the brim and emotional like a–” he paused, letting the insult linger unspoken before continuing, “I care about many things. How dreadfully boring most of this club is, for instance. But I couldn’t care less about your sources of entertainment.”

“I said, stop it, Alastor!” you snapped, your voice rising with a venom that surprised even yourself.

Alastor froze, his smile faltering as he raised a brow in that infuriatingly mocking way like ever so often. The sight only stoked the flames of your anger further.

“Stop deflecting!” you barked, leaning forward as your temper boiled over. “You’re only trying to avoid the topic. But you won’t brush me off so easily this time. I–” You faltered, swallowing hard before regaining your resolve. “I can’t do this anymore. I’m tired of this–” Your hand shot out, gesturing wildly between the two of you. “Whatever this is between us! This… push and pull!”

Alastor blinked, his expression unreadable as he straightened his posture. He loomed over you now, a threatening figure radiating danger. “Push and pull?” he echoed, his head tilting as if feigning innocence.

“You know exactly what I mean, Alastor,” you hissed, leaning closer, your heart pounding in your chest. “I can’t keep pretending that there’s nothing between us. Not when you – when we…”

“When we what?” he interjected smoothly, though his tone carried a dangerous edge.

Your eyes narrowed. “Don’t pretend like you don’t know exactly what I’m talking about. I’m not in the mood for your games. So cut it out and listen to me.”

“I am listening,” he replied evenly, his grin sharpening.

“Even if you are, it doesn’t change the fact that you’re not taking this seriously.”

“Why should I? I fail to see the reason for your… distress.”

“Because I’m sick of it, Alastor!” Your voice rang out, loud enough to draw the attention of nearby demons. Their heads turned your way before they quickly averted their gazes as soon as they realized just who you were arguing with.

Alastor’s grin widened, and that unnerving smile of his only pushed you further toward the edge of your fraying patience.

“You really should pay closer attention to your drinking habits, my dear. You’re completely wasted,” he quipped, his tone light and dismissive, as if the whole situation left him completely unfazed.

Your eye twitched and you clenched your fists. “God damn it, Alastor, can you please take this conversation seriously for once?!”

“This is a nightclub,” he drawled, gesturing around with a casual wave of his hand. “Hardly the place for heavy discussions, wouldn’t you agree?”

“I don’t give a single damn!” you hissed, voice low and dangerous. The tension in the air was so palpable it felt like a string about to snap. At this point you felt like you were dangling at the edge of insanity. One more push and you might actually lose it.

“Really, darling,” he said with mock concern. “Such passion! But perhaps you should consider calming down before you make a scene.”

That one's nearly done it. You clenched your jaws together, biting your tongue in the process. The drink in your hand was long forgotten as well as the surrounding ambience of chattering and loud music. It was clear he savored every second of your distress and it unnerved you even further. This clearly had been a horrible idea. And not even your intoxicated state was the reason…

With that thought in mind, you noticed that not even postponing would’ve prevented this conversation from a similar outcome. It was Alastor who you were confronting here, after all. Probably one of the least empathetic people in Pentagram City.

“I'm serious, Alastor. This ain't funny. I really need to talk with you about this,” you murmured defeated as your tone shifted from one extreme to another – now weak and desperate. “I need an answer…”

A moment of silence lingered between you in which you already started to believe this conversation had come to a dead end, when he suddenly countered, “And what would you do with that answer, hmm? Would it soothe your restless heart? Or would it only complicate things further?”

“I don’t care…” you muttered under your breath. For a moment, you hesitated as you contemplated the right choice of words or if you should just give up, stand from your seat and walk away. “Alastor.”

His ears twitched.

“I really need to figure out where I stand with you. Because–” you swallowed hard, “Because I’m tired of trying to figure it out while you push me away just to pull me close again whenever it suits you best. I…” – A deep breath – “I know who you are… how you are and who you pretend to be… but please, for once, stop deflecting or playing your stupid games and just tell me the truth…”

Alastor just stared at you with an unreadable expression. He still held his drink in one of his hands, though his knuckles didn’t whiten nor did the slightest change in his expression hint at anything. If you didn’t know it better you would say he behaved like a deer in the headlights. But the headlights were you, weak and all vulnerable in front of one of Hell’s most feared overlords. And maybe you just lost him completely…

“Why are you so insistent on this, my dear?” he suddenly asked, pulling you out of your thoughts. His voice was smooth like silk, the static giving it a subtle rasp. And, for the first time this evening, his expression was neither dark nor cold nor all mischievous, but filled with sheer curiosity and maybe even a hint of concern.

“Because…” You hesitated, choosing your words carefully. “Because I think… I think you care about me more than you’re willing to admit.”

Alastor’s ears twitched again but this time the corners of his lips moved in sync as if struck a nerve. The static grew louder, and Alastor’s grin twisted into something strained. “You presume much, my dear.”

“Do I?" you challenged, your voice shaking. “Then tell me I’m wrong. Tell me you don’t feel anything for me, and I’ll leave you alone.”

“Is this a confession? I must say, I’m flattered, though I do hope you’re not expecting me to–.”

“It is,” you interrupted him sternly, your gaze unrelenting as it bore into his. “It is a confession, Alastor.”

He blinked.

Defeated, you decided now was the time to just spill it all out. You let out a sigh and rested your head in the palm of your hand before you stuttered, “I… I see something in you…” Your voice trailed off. “I… I see you as more than just the Radio Demon, or the cruel sociopath you pretend to be… You… you allowed me glimpses behind your facade, to see the man you truly are. And I… I care about him… I… I care about you, Alastor… and I hate to question everyday if you might feel the same about me because whenever we’re alone you behave like a completely different person… Even Angel Dust and the others took notice of your behavior in my presence… You… You give me signs, Alastor. Only to pretend nothing ever happened whenever you notice you might’ve gone too personal… You showed me a side of you that made me feel special…” Your voice trailed off again and you closed your eyes, afraid of the outcome – and afraid to see his reaction. You didn’t want to know what he must’ve thought of you right now. That was probably the turning point where he eventually understood you were more pathetic than you let on… Was he disappointed in you now? Disappointed that you, as his friend, initially fell for his charm as well? That you were nothing better than all those women swooning for that reserved, unavailable and emotionally constipated demon…?

The silence between you stretched longer and longer, the booming sounds of the club replaced by static buzzing in your ears. Your surroundings became foggy, as if a veil wrapped around your world, shielding you away with your own misery as you blended out everything. Not even Alastor was there – or at least you forgot about his presence for this moment. Only the rapid beating of your heart in your chest reminded you that you were still a living being, yet the pulse itself felt like a mocking sensation that did just so much as to remind you of what you just did. Seconds stretched into minutes and the tension in the air was so thick it could be cut with a knife. Silently, you pleaded. Maybe even prayed – you didn’t know. You didn’t know anything. Only, that you fucked up.

“You truly are a glutton for punishment, my dear,” Alastor’s voice cut through the silence.

You snapped your head up, meeting his gaze with a surge of frustration that welled up inside you. His words echoed in your mind, taunting you. “What does that mean?” you demanded, your voice sharper than you intended.

“It means that you are spending far too much time getting hung up on things that are not worth questioning,” he replied smoothly, his tone betraying no emotion.

His words struck you like a blow that would’ve swept you right off your feet if you weren’t already seated. They hurt, sharp and deliberate, leaving you with even more questions clawing at the edges of your mind. “‘Not worth questioning’...?” you echoed, voice barely above a whisper.

“Indeed,” Alastor confirmed, his demeanor unflinching. “You presume too much, my dear. What I feel is irrelevant.” His voice was cold, his face set into a stern mask. But his eyes flickered with something that betrayed his mask. Something raw and buried – a truth he fought to suppress. “Feelings are fleeting. They mean nothing in the grand scheme of things.”

For a moment you just reflected his words, gnawing at your lip to distract yourself from the stabbing ache in your chest that threatened to leave you breathless.

You bit your lip, trying to distract yourself from the suffocating ache in your chest, as his words cut through you.

“You see only what I allow you to see,” he continued, his claws digging into the armrest of his chair. “The charming smile, the witty repartee. But what lies beneath that…” He trailed off, his voice heavy with something unspoken. “It doesn’t matter.”

For a moment you just stared at him, took in his posture, his expression, the visible fight it took him to keep up with whatever mask he forced onto himself. Then, after a while, you broke the silence, desperation bleeding into your tone, “Why can’t you just be honest with me, Alastor?”

He chuckled, though it wasn’t even slightly as weightless as it normally sounded. “Because honesty is a luxury I cannot afford,” he replied, the ever-present grin faltering for the briefest of moments. Then, his next words fell like a hammer, crushing whatever fragile hope lingered in your chest, “And you, my dear, seem far too eager to tether yourself to a fantasy. So, tell me, cher, are you truly so desperate for my affection? That you waste your breath on such a pointless discussion and spend an evening out pestering yourself with such insignificant matters? All because of me disrupting some inappropriate public actions of yours?”

His words struck you like a brick, leaving your chest hollow and aching. Dagger after dagger seemed to pierce through your heart and shatter whatever fragile mess was left during this conversation, the ache radiating through every fiber of your being. “This is just another game for you, isn’t it?” you asked, your voice trembling with frustration and hurt. “You’ve always been toying with me, haven’t you? Pretending to care just to make me squirm, to keep me exactly where you wanted. To make me your goddamn plaything!”

Alastor’s grin widened unnaturally, a dangerous glint flashing in his eyes. His sharp teeth glistened, the edges more predatory than ever as the static around him intensified. The sound sent an unnatural chill down your spine, mingling unease with the heartache that threatened to consume you. He leaned forward slightly, his voice dropping to a venomous whisper. “Everything’s a game, darling,” he said lowly, his tone both mocking and threatening, a dark amusement laced in every syllable.

Tears welled up in your eyes and your throat slowly constricted painfully, suffocating you by leaving barely any space to breathe. “So, you’re just toying with me,” you whispered, the tremor in your voice giving way to anger. “That’s all I’ve ever been to you – a pawn in your game. Something to manipulate, something to amuse yourself with when you’re bored!”

You jumped up from your chair, pushing it back with such a force that it scratched over the floor with an ear-wrecking sound that almost resembled the feeling of your heart crumbling to pieces. The tears you’ve been so forcefully holding back suddenly spilled from your eyes and ran down your cheeks like a mockery of your vulnerability. You just bared your whole heart to him, poured out your deepest hidden feelings, a secret you so carefully hid from him over the course of what felt like an eternity. Just for him to tear it out and shred it to pieces with his bare claws and teeth like an animal feasting on its prey. You told him how you felt about him, told him how much you cared about him, confessed to him… Just to find out that you meant less than nothing to him. That he’s been toying with you all the time, using you for his own sick and sadistic pleasure, his amusement in this afterlife he claimed was oh so boring…

You shot him a last glare before you whipped around and fled from the scene, past the dancefloor and the crowd of people that enjoyed the very evening that turned into your own personal Hell. Oh, how ironic it was. Everything. The establishment, the circumstances, the random music in the club pounding with a bass and the sound of a woman singing about being hung up on the one she loves… This felt like a joke. A bad, terrible and tasteless joke. As if fate took everything in its force to make you suffer and question everything you felt and experienced. Memories with Alastor played in front of your inner eyes, one clip after another being played in timelapse, the film exchanged quickly after a few seconds:

You and him laughing, spending time in the privacy of his quarters or going out into the city.

A long, lingering gaze as he regarded you with affection behind those blood red orbs as he took your hand in his and pulled you into a lively dance. You remembered how focused you used to be at that moment. He was the only person existing in this moment as the both of you swung to the jazzy tunes in Mimzy’s Club.

Then, the memory disappeared and got exchanged with another in which you sat at Husk’s bar in the lobby, playing with the rim of your glass after a terrible day. Alastor had appeared behind you – as he so often did – and seated himself into the stool right next to you with that toothy grin of his. He was there for you, when you felt the need for distraction. As if he had sensed your unease but instead of taunting you he always just pulled you into a conversation that made you forget about your problems completely.

There was so much he’d done for you – tiny, meaningful gestures you now knew were nothing but calculated moves to manipulate you into believing you were special to him.

“Caressin’ ya cheek like silk, toots…” Angel’s words repeated themselves again. What used to be a sentence that gave you the strength to finally pull through and confront him, was now a mockery of your actions, a taunting joke to remind you of how just wrong you were all this time…

You didn’t even notice how you pushed the door to the hallway open so forcefully for it to crash against the wall and startle loitering demons. Gazes followed as you stomped into the hallway, sniffling and sore, eyes red and burnt from the sheer amount of tears pouring down your cheeks like waterfalls. Your breath hitched and you could barely breathe, though you didn’t care about the suffocation nor how much it hurt to force yourself into taking breaths.

It was all a lie.

Everything was a lie.

He used you.

He used you like he probably used everyone.

You meant nothing to him but mere amusement.

He pretended to care about you, to maybe even reciprocate your hopeless feelings that clung to you for months, maybe even a year. Feelings that made you look at him through heart shaped glasses, with a clouded sense of judgement. You’d believed in the truth of what you were seeing. You’d trusted him and loved him with all your heart. You would’ve burned the world for him if it meant he could be yours. And you’ve fallen for every single of his schemes. Fell for his manipulation, his bad intentions veiled by his charming nature. You were an idiot. A fool. And no better than all those other girls whose hearts he’d broken in the past. The girls he either complained or laughed about. Wasn’t it obvious? You should’ve seen the signs. Yet, you’d deluded yourself into a fantasy that couldn’t be further from reality. With all fiber of your being you felt nothing but utterly betrayed.

Suddenly you bumped into a firm chest and startled. As you looked up, you met the sneering expression of an unfamiliar demon who scrunched up his nose in disgust of your pathetic appearance. Under different circumstances you would’ve felt insulted. But right now you couldn’t care less.

“Excuse me…” you mumbled with a trembling voice, cheeks flushing with embarrassment. You were worried he would attack you with a nasty remark. But instead, he just glared at you with raised eyebrows and shook his head while he walked away, leaving you all alone.

Thrown back into reality, you blinked, trying to figure out where you were. You could still hear the sound of the music in the near distance, so you couldn’t have made it far from the club. In fact, you still were in the club – the hallway to be precise. The very same hallway that brought you into this situation at all.

You spun around to make out the direction you were walking and your eyes landed on another door that marked the outside area where you had gone to get some fresh air and where you’d said goodbye to Selena.

Selena. You hoped she arrived at home unharmed. Maybe tomorrow you could send her a message to let her know that – well, not that the evening turned out to be your own personalized purgatory.

Shaking your head you tried to dismiss the thoughts of her, yet everything that has unfolded this evening repeated itself in your head: The arrival at the club, dancing and drinking with Angel, meeting Selena, the little makeout sesh only a few feet away from where you stood right now, Alastor catching you, your rambling to Angel at the bar and him encouraging you to confront the other man, you going outside, Selena unraveling the truth about your and Alastor’s connection within seconds, you at the bar again to get a drink right before you approached Alastor, the initial fallout…

You closed your eyes and wiped away your tears in a hurry, a loud sniff sounding through the hallway as you breathed in sharply through your nose. That was enough. You had to get some grip again. You were in the middle of a club, after all. Right in the middle of Hell, with demons ready to use your vulnerability for their own profit lurking everywhere around you.

The room spun around you as you desperately clung to your breath, trying to control every deep inhale and long exhale. Your body shook and trembled from the emotional chaos while you tried to get rid of your tears – but the flood didn’t stop. The pain was too fresh, too deep. And for a moment you considered returning to the hotel. But you couldn’t go without letting the others know. And you most definitely didn’t want them to see you that way because they’d ask you questions you’d have to answer.

Damn it, you were fucked.

You noticed a shadow move in the corner of your eye and held your breath as it morphed into shape and Alastor stepped out. Your heart dropped immediately.

“You know, my dear, it’s pretty rude to just run away from a conversation. Especially when things were just getting… interesting,” he said, his voice smooth as if he didn’t just tear your whole world into pieces.

“Fuck off,” you hissed, not even turning to face him. The sound of his voice was enough to make your stomach twist with rage and hurt.

Alastor clicked his tongue dismissively. “My, my, such a sharp tongue. Rudeness certainly doesn’t suit you.”

“You’re one to talk,” you shot back through gritted teeth, your voice trembling under the weight of your emotions.

Alastor tilted his head in confusion but you didn’t see it, still facing away from him. Part of you wanted him to see your tear-streaked face and recognize what he had done to you. But the rational part of you knew better. He’d only use it as ammunition for another tasteless remark – or worse, twist it into an opportunity to manipulate you further. Who knew, maybe he’d even try to strike a deal with you – but that would be pretty tasteless, even for him.

“I’m afraid I don’t quite follow,” he replied, his voice infuriatingly calm.

You didn’t say anything and instead wrapped your arms around your chest, fighting against the urge to yell at him, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of seeing you unravel.

“I said, fuck off, Alastor,” you repeated venomously, each word sharper than the last.

Alastor raised an eyebrow, entirely unfazed. His voice dropped an octave, laced with cruel amusement. “Why so dramatic, darling? Did this truly mean so much to you that my words have cut this deep?”

You snapped. Whirling around, your face flushed red almost instantly with a sudden burst of rage, morphing into a slightly more demonic form with your claws growing and hairs standing to all sides. And then, you exploded. “Are you fucking kidding me?!” you shouted, your voice cracking under the sheer force of your anger. The dam broke, and every ounce of hurt and frustration came pouring out in a relentless torrent. “You just told me you’ve been using me this whole time! That you don’t care about me, or anything we’ve shared, and that I’m not even worth knowing the truth! You’ve been pretending all along! Making me believe I mattered! Making me think there was something real between us! I opened up to you, Alastor! I told you how I felt, I confessed my fucking feelings to you! And you?! You twisted it all into some fucked-up game! You didn’t even take me seriously for a second! Do you even understand how much courage it took to open up to you?! Do you even know what it’s like to be fooled by someone you trust? By someone you love?!” Your voice cracked as you continued, tears blurring your vision as they relentlessly streamed down your face. “You meant the world to me, Alastor! I’ve never cared for anyone like this before, and now you’re standing there, acting like I’m some pathetic fool for ever believing you might have cared too. That any of it was real. That you–” You choked on your words, chest heaving as you took in a breath.

Through it all, Alastor didn’t flinch. His grin remained fixed though it twisted slightly at the edges, betraying a flicker of unease. He leaned casually on his cane, exuding an infuriatingly calm demeanor as he patiently waited for your outburst to end.

When silence fell, you just glared at him, heart pounding as you waited for some kind of response – or for him to just diossolve into shadow and leave you the fuck alone. But he did none of that. Instead, he merely tilted his head. “I haven’t said any of that,” he countered.

You blinked. “Are you shitting me?”

“No, I’m not. But it appears you’re assuming things again,” he continued and straightened his back, spinning his cane in a fluid motion before planting it firmly beside him. “I told you that ‘it doesn’t matter’. That honesty is a luxury I cannot afford. That your time is wasted on such fleeting notions as truth. And, as I said before, the truth changes nothing. It never has, and it never will. But I never – not even once – mentioned that I’m using you.”

He took a step closer, his expression unwavering, and you instinctively stepped back. The glow in his eyes burned brighter, his presence suffocating as he closed the distance you so desperately wanted to keep.

“You said it was a game…” you breathed, intimidated by his threatening height looming over you, his dangerous proximity making you feel like an animal in a cage, ready to be fed to an approaching hunter.

Alastor looked down at you and the sharpness of his facial features appeared even more angular. He widened his grin, baring his teeth – those sharp and deadly canines – but he didn’t move closer. Instead, his voice dropped an octave and took over a deep, sultry rasp as he calmly said, “I’ve said ‘Everything’s a game’. Not that I played you.”

For a moment there was silence between you as you reconsidered his words, only the bass of the music pounded from the other room, the melody of the song barely recognizable. “What do you mean by that?” you questioned sternly. The amount of tears running down your face came to a stop without you even noticing.

“What I mean is that the whole world is a stage. And while the stage is a world of entertainment, one has to direct it to keep control.”

You furrowed your eyebrows, puzzled by his words that were nothing but another cryptic message. Ones of which you already had enough this evening. “Where’s the difference between this and manipulation?”

Alastor chuckled and tilted his head. His lips were closed, hiding his sharp set of teeth as his grin softened into a warm, almost genuine smile. “Oh, there is one, cher.” he said, his voice laced with static that hummed like a low, sultry vibration. The French term rolled off his tongue with an unsettling intimacy that sent a shiver down your spine.

You held your breath as he leaned in slightly, his tone dropping further, rich and velvety, yet crackling with faint distortion. “Why burden yourself with such senseless notions,” he murmured, his glowing eyes locked onto yours, “when in the end, the only thing it does is cause unnecessary worries?”

You furrowed your eyebrows, still puzzled and mad about the fact he continued his charade of twisted sentences instead of giving you a straight answer. So instead, you decided to change direction. “Why did you follow me?” You breathed – tired, and weak, and startled by the tension crackling between you.

Alastor’s eyebrows shot up at your sudden question but returned to their natural position as quickly.

“Why are you here?” you added.

He didn’t respond.

You let out a defeated sigh. “Listen. If you want to continue to pester me, to make this even worse for me than it already is – stop it. You’ve done enough damage for an evening. Hell, for eternity, even!” You straightened your back and swallowed hard as another flood of tears tried to fight its way from underneath your eyelids. But you blinked it away, not wanting to give him any of his sadistic satisfaction and lose the little composure you barely contained. “So, unless you plan to tell me the truth, I advise you to just leave me alone. And never talk to me again.” You hissed the last words with such contempt that his smile twitched. You loved him. But maybe it would help getting over him if you just learned to despise him.

The tension dispersed again. You turned around and moved to leave, ready to cut the strings and close the case. But as you stepped towards the door, a firm hand wrapped around your arm, pulling you back. Your heart skipped a beat at the sudden touch and you bit your lip to prevent yourself from flinching. Part of you wanted to scream at him again, but you kept your mouth shut.

“You don't want to run away in the middle of our conversation again, do you?” Alastor asked, his voice laced with that signature cheerful tone of his.

You let out a growl. “Well, you didn’t give me enough reason to stay.” Slowly, you turned around and your gaze fell on his long, slender fingers wrapped around your wrist, before you lifted your gaze to meet his eyes. There was something in them, a tiny flicker of an emotion you couldn’t quite place.

For a while, neither of you said something and you just stood there, almost chest to chest, and looked into each other’s eyes. Slowly, the tension returned, growing even thicker as neither of you moved. The storm of bitter emotions, anger and frustration still raged in your chest but you no longer felt the need to vent and let it all out. Your throat tightened – but this time not out of hurt but out of bewilderment caused by this sudden proximity.

You tried to free your arm but Alastor's grip stayed firm as if silently pleading you to stay.

“Could you please listen to me, cher?” He asked.

“Could you please just give me an answer instead of avoiding my questions with your pointless riddles?!” You snapped back.

Alastor blinked, caught off guard but said nothing. Instead, another uncomfortable silence lingered between you and the Radio Demon in which your frustration only grew.

You threw your head back as you let out a frustrated ‘Ugh’. Why the Hell did he even bother to keep you in the same room when he didn't spit it out? Then you saw it. A flicker of an emotion that seemed so out of character that it left you speechless. Your eyes widened slowly, as realization struck and your heart skipped a beat before it continued to hammer relentlessly in your chest, fueled by the new revelation.

“You're scared…” you whispered, gazing between his eyes which glowed in the dim light of the hallway like blood-red jack-o'-lanterns on Halloween. A moment passed in which you just stared into his eyes until a chuckle escaped your throat and broke the tense silence between you, whispering, “You really are scared…”

Alastor blinked and the glimmer in his eyes disappeared as he raised his eyebrows, the expression filled with surprise and a mild mix of disbelief. His ears twitched and with a huff he countered, “Scared? Me? I think you must be quite mistaken!” He exclaimed with a wide grin, his demeanor way too cheerful for the circumstances and raised his hand to his chest in offense – yet his gesture didn't seem genuine. The corners of his grin twitched nervously and the static around him crackled stronger, betraying his sudden nervosity.

You narrowed your eyes suspiciously and slowly shook your head. “I don't believe you.” Your voice was quiet and barely above a whisper as you stared at him intently, surprised and pleased at the same time. Finally, you had a read of what he so desperately tried to hide. It was still veiled by decades of mastering his mask – but the slight strain in his expression was enough to make clear that there was much more hidden than he wanted to admit.

Alastor scoffed. “Well, then don't,” he retorted with a dismissive tone and his expression twisted slightly at the edges. But you didn't let his denial get to you. You got this far – now you'll push further to throw him over the edge and finally make his spill. “I want the truth, Alastor.”

Alastor just blinked and his ears twitched in sync. Yet, he didn't let go of your wrist. His grasp was strong and the touch of his slender fingers wrapped around your arm sent shivers through your body, waking the butterflies in your stomach. Desperately, you tried to ignore the fluttering in your guts. You were supposed to be angry, after all. But this small little touch – his hand resting on your skin and his presence so close to yours that you could feel the heat radiating off his body – made all the issues that got you so distraught appear meaningless. Like nothing but a gratuitous overreaction.

You let out another sigh. “I want the truth Alastor,” you repeated, voice much stronger than before. “Now.”

Your arm twitched but you didn't pull away.

Alastor just blinked again, saying nothing – and frustration struck again.

“This is pathetic,” you hissed, about to pull your arm away but Alastor's grip tightened, keeping you in place.

“Let me go, Alastor. You had your chance and you dismissed it. So, for fucks sake, let me–”

“You’re a complication I never accounted for,” he interrupted, his voice low and uncharacteristically soft despite the static that crackled around him.

“What?” Your breath caught in your throat at his sudden admission but you masked it quickly with a clearing of your throat before you turned around and regarded him with furrowed eyebrows. But the sight only made your heart skip a beat. There he was, looking down at you with a soft, even pleading, expression. His grin was replaced by nothing but a slight curving up of his lips and his eyes – oh his eyes – were filled with a vulnerability you could barely process. Alastor. He, out of all people, stood there, in front of you with a helpless expression on his face that put him into a light you never thought you'd ever witness.

You took a deep breath in to steady yourself before you asked, “What does that mean?”

Alastor mirrored your reaction, his chest heaving under the deep breath he took in. You could see that he had to force himself to keep eye contact and his thumb began to trace over your skin as if he was holding himself back from doing something precipitately.

“It means, cher,” he began, voice raspy but the radio filter barely hearable, “that you've done something no one else has ever managed to do. You've gotten under my skin. You’ve forced your way into my life, into my thoughts, into places I swore no one would ever touch. And I can't seem to get it out.”

Under different circumstances you would've felt hopeful – even excited at the mention of him… feeling… something for you. Something that might prove you've been right the whole time. That Angel was right when he said Alastor was all over you… But while he hinted at a secret truth, the Radio Demon always did what he could do best – dismiss it.

Your eyes flickered between his as you tried to read something out of his expression that could give you an answer before you went on to ask him. But there was nothing you could make of it. Despite the vulnerability in his gaze, the deep hidden longing in his eyes, he visibly fought with himself to further mask the truth.

“Then… then why do you keep running away?” You asked carefully, your voice surprisingly soft and yet laced with a slight edge to it.

Alastor's thumb kept tracing patterns on your skin as he responded, “Because those are things I've spent a lifetime burying. And I suggest you do the same.”

Slowly, your heart sank and you pressed your lips tight as his words echoed in your mind. There it was. The rejection.

“I can't…” you whispered, shaking your head, and lowered your gaze, no longer strong enough to face him. “I… I've tried, but I can’t just bury what I feel for you… I can't just pretend it's not there, Alastor. Don't you understand?” You felt tears well up in your eyes again and swallowed to push them back down, but the proximity and the feeling of his thumb caressing your wrist softly made it impossible for you to ignore the sadness that overcame you. Shit, it hurt. It hurt so much having him this close and yet out of reach because that goddamn deer in front of you couldn't handle facing the truth. Facing the emotions that have accompanied you over the course of too many months. The tension that slowly had grown over time. The love you had developed for him.

Fuck, it hurt so much…

You bit your lip to soothe yourself with the pain of your tooth piercing the skin inside your mouth. You wanted to feel that physical pain – just to forget about the ache in your heart that twisted your guts and made you taste the bile of an eternity with ignoring those damn feelings you held for the man in front of you – the man you didn't even dare to look at any longer, afraid of what you might see on his face. Of what seeing his face might do to you…

“The truth is, cher, that you’re far too precious for someone like me. You deserve someone who can give you the… romantic nonsense you so clearly crave. And that is not, nor will it ever be, me,” Alastor uttered the words with such pained softness that you almost couldn't believe they had come from him. “I’ve built my existence on control, on never letting anyone get too close. And now, here you are, tearing down every wall I’ve ever built.”

Every word that left his lips cut deep, but instead of surrendering to the ache, you clenched your jaw and forced the hurt aside. This wasn’t something you were willing to accept. Not his stubbornness, not his ignorance, and certainly not his fear of treading unfamiliar ground. It was obvious he was at war with himself. Forcing himself to say these things because he had gaslighted himself into believing that pushing you away was the right choice. The best option. But you weren’t about to let him get away with that. You’d come too far in this confrontation, had managed to slip past his defenses, to chip away at his carefully guarded mask, to glimpse the truth he so desperately wanted to keep buried.

Oh no.

You weren’t giving up now.

He had given you an answer. And now you were going to make him give you more.

“Then why don’t you just accept it?” you whispered, voice low and husky, cautious yet filled with anticipation and the hope to finally crack his mask completely.

“Because I don’t deserve it!” he snarled, his voice rising again. His grin dropped almost entirely, leaving his face almost completely bare and raw in a way you’d never seen before. “You think I don’t want this? That I don’t want you? I do! But I can’t–” He cut himself off abruptly, turning away so fast his coat flared behind him. His shoulders were rigid, trembling. His fists clenched tightly, his fingers curling around the microphone on his cane as his ears twitched, betraying the sheer effort it took for him to keep himself together.

And you just stood there, staring at him with wide eyes, and unable to grasp the situation – both overwhelmed and yet completely aware of what you were witnessing. You had seen Alastor vulnerable before when you had spent long evenings together, locked in moments of raw intensity where he let his guard slip just enough for you to see past the mask. Those moments had been rare, but they were what made you fall for him in the first place.

But this?

This was something else entirely.

“I can’t give in to this. Not when–” Again, he stopped himself. His chest rose and fell with a deep, steadying breath that straightened his posture as if pulling himself together by sheer force of will. Silence returned with just you and him left in the otherwise empty hallway and only the bass of the club pounding through the walls. Your skin prickled and you felt the need to say something, but you knew better that speaking now would be reckless. So you just watched. Your heart pounded against your ribs, blood vibrating in your veins and body trembling under the sheer gravity of what was unfolding. By doing something, saying something, you'd remind him of your presence. Then, he could choose to disappear, sink into the shadows and abandon you in this place. But he could also spin around with those fiery eyes of his darkened to dangerous black and his grin twisted into a grimace, lunging at you with sharp lethal teeth… But he did nothing.

Seconds passed which felt like eternity and you started to grow impatient, when, suddenly, Alastor’s voice broke the silence, deep and filled with determination, vulnerable and lacking any filter.

“Fuck it.”

He spun around, his cane vanishing into the void with a flick of his wrist. And then, in an instant, his hands were on you, cupping your neck and pulling you forward in one swift motion as his lips crashed onto yours.

Sparks ignited instantly. The tension shattered as a thousand butterflies burst into fireworks, exploding into a rush of heat that surged through your body like a shockwave. His lips moved against yours with a fervor that stole the air from your lungs – fervently, hungry, craving. He pulled you closer, until your chest pressed flush against his. You could feel the heat radiating off his body, the sudden contact catching you off guard. But there was no time to get startled. You didn’t even need to grasp the situation because your body immediately reacted on instinct, returning his kiss with the same passion and arms wrapping tightly around his neck, locking him in your grasp as though he might pull away and vanish into nothing if you let go. This was the moment you had been waiting for. The moment you envisioned in your dreams, certain it would never become reality. But here you were, tangled in Alastor’s embrace with his lips moving against yours in a battle of temptation, ignited by the sheer release of all the emotions he’d kept locked inside. His sharp teeth scratched your lips but you didn’t care. It only fuelled your need to taste him, to feel him, and get even closer.

But even the most anticipated of moments couldn’t last forever.

Your lips chased his as he slowly pulled away, desperate to capture his mouth in another kiss, but he straightened his back, making it impossible for you to reach. Your grip around his shoulders loosened slightly but you didn’t let go, unwilling to lose even this kind of contact. Eyes fluttering open, your gaze fell onto his face, sharp features softened and eyes half lidded with a warm smile curling his lips. His hands remained on your neck as he forced you to keep looking at him, and you held your breath, utterly speechless and unable to grasp what just happened. Everything felt like a dream, as if everything was born out of your imagination, and yet the remaining feeling of his lips on yours betrayed the truth. His hands still holding your neck were proof of the moment you just shared. And it felt both unreal and real at the same time.

“Don’t you dare say this was a mistake,” you muttered under your breath, eyes flicking between his, and despite the seriousness of your tone you couldn’t help but let out a quick laugh that wasn’t quite amused but definitely a subtle plea for him to not tear everything down again. Despite everything you’ve come this far. You’ve confessed your feelings, confronted him about his infuriating behavior, yelled at him and cried your heart out while you revealed your biggest vulnerabilities. You’ve accused him of using you, managed to tear off his mask completely, got him to question his own mindset and give in to finally kiss you. Now, the moment was too fragile, too easy to break, and your heart too easy to shatter. One wrong word and everything could fall apart again in an instant. And your anxiety grew with every second he did not respond – in which he simply stared at you, his expression unchanging.

You held your breath again and swallowed hard, finally lowering your arms until only his grip around your neck remained. His fingers curled into your hair, playing with the strands while his claws carefully caressed your skin. But still, he did not respond. As if he was pondering his answer, he kept his mouth shut while his gaze roamed over your face, and you closed your eyes, ready to step away.

Alastor must’ve sensed your intention because his grip around you tightened, preventing you from leaving. Then, his voice broke the silence, low and uncertain. “This… this doesn’t change who I am. I can’t offer you what you crave – not in the way you deserve. I can’t give you the kind of romance people write books about. I’m just not that man…”

Under different circumstances his words would’ve stung. But now that you were able to look behind his facade and you finally understood the struggles that kept him so locked away, you just met him with a soft, yet slightly anxious smile. “I don’t care about stereotypes, Alastor…” you started, your voice a murmur but not less determined. “I don’t need roses, or candlelight dinners, or great declarations of love…” You shook your head. “I never needed that. Because this… the moments we shared in the past… the moment we shared just now… is already enough. I just want to be yours as much as I want you to be mine.” You raised your hands again and cupped his cheeks, eyes not leaving his, as your voice trailed off, getting quieter with every single word. “This is all I need. To be with you…”

With that, both of you leaned forward in a silent understanding. And when he pulled you closer and gently locked your lips with his, you knew his answer. Because you didn’t need him to say it out loud. His action alone was enough for you to understand that he was willing to try…

Let me know what you think about the ending or this part in general!

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@diffidentphantom, @notsoaverageguy-1997, @the-autistic-moth, @n0tmentallystable, @sirens-and-moonflowers, @alastorsgirl48, @ratsematary, @night-lol, @divineknightmare, @musiclover059, @bitter-rabbittt, @milkissesx, @florist-of-the-valley, @fantasyhopperhea, @eris-norwega, @godsent69, @minamilinaqueen, @sour-daisies, @thisbipuff-isaswiftie, @circusren, @chibistar45, @fokrilove, @tayraedoll

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