Lost Realities | (Alastor x Reader)

That's Definitely One Way To Say Hi

Tap. Tap. Tap.

My fingertips continue to tap the wood by my leg in a nervous manner as I force that one compliable part in myself to be patient. Though waiting like this- alone, under-dressed, tired and hungry- really gets on my nerves. Ooh, Alastor better hurry.

I'm glad he didn't invite me in, though. He probably remembered the way I acted around Husk and his precious alcohol.

That's nice of him, at least.

I allow a small smile to light on my lips. Once more, I cast a quick glance left and right, tapping absently. Alastor left me by a bench near a bar, saying that he'd be out in a minute. Whoever he's fetching must be inside the building. A small, red and black striped awning hangs over the bench, and I had decided to sit there after a moment alone outside. Two potted, half-dead plants are on either side of the structure, situated by the two doors on both sides of the building. A lot of gruesome posters are plastered to the large glass window behind me. What was the word for them? Oh, right. NSFW.

Let's not look at those pictures anymore.

I kinda regret putting myself in this position, though. A lot of passing demons are either glaring at me in contempt, smirking, or something else that gets on my nerves. The loud noise and music coming from inside the bar doesn't help.

To pass the time, I eye the people who enter the bar, listening to the cute, small golden bells ring as either door swings open. Honestly, I was expecting a boar cry or something instead.

"I wonder, what's a cute little Miss Cupid like her doing alone outside? Poor thing . . ."

Fuck, someone noticed me.

Who'd bother a little nobody?! This guy.

I snap my head over to lock eyes with a male demon eyeing me with particular interest. A frown instantly forms permanently on my grey, blue freckled face as I analyze him. His skin looks smooth and black, or at least a very, very dark grey. The suit that hugs his slender, tall frame looks like a king's compared to my lowly pajamas. Dark eyebrows, large, x-raying, baggy red eyes, and a thin, smirking mouth with two small fangs poking out make up his face. An unusually long, grey neck attaches his round head to his body, and his slightly puffed out chest reminds me of Angel Dust. Wait . . . is that a hood? Like a snake?

My eyes don't deceive me. A tucked in hood is the background for his throat, reaching just below his shoulder blades. (This is him: ) Though, snake or not, he does have legs instead of a tail, unlike the other snake I saw on 666 News. This guy also looks a lot saner.

His smirk widens, eyebrows raising. "The bad boys might come around."

Something hardens around my heart, and I don't like it. Fear, anxiety, and a deep cold swamps my body. I find myself unable to speak to him for a few moments, my head spinning with one, simple word. Wrong, wrong, wrong. I force myself to swallow dryly, deciding to take up a stubborn, sassy demeanor. Hopefully if I make him feel like I'm a lost cause, he'll leave.

"W-Well, this little lady is very much capable of looking after herself, thanks", I snip, inwardly shunning myself for stuttering slightly. My cold, white pupils meet his.

With his smartly dressed attire I can't say he doesn't, but if I were speaking my mind, it's not the clothes that tell a person how clean and pure they are.

It's their mind.

The demon hums once, his blood red eyes giving my figure a once-over. "Hell, even other ladies I've met wait till I introduce myself before snapping at me." He tucks one long, lighter grey arm behind him and arches his back, letting the other rest on his chest. Shit his fingers are long. "Johelin Keir, at your service, love."