[RadioDust] Artificial Love

Chapter 9: Closing the Distance

Angel woke up around 10 and lay in bed fighting with himself about whether to go downstairs early and try to talk to Alastor before he had to leave for class or stay in his room as long as possible to give his tom plenty of space. But then, his first class wasn't until 2 p.m., which meant he'd have quite a while up there alone if he chose to wait it out.

He'd already decided that his first words to Alastor once he got down there should be an apology. A real one, a full 'what I did was shitty and I realize that and I'm not gonna do it again' ordeal, not just a half-assed 'sorry.' He'd just have to hope that was enough and Alastor would give him another chance to prove it. He was about halfway through composing it when there was a knock at his bedroom door.

"Angel?" Alastor called from the other side. "Are you awake?"

"Yeah." Somehow his brain hadn't accounted for the possibility of Alastor approaching him first. "Didja need somethin'?"

"Just making sure you're up; I wouldn't want you to be late for class," his tom explained, totally casual like nothing had happened between them. Angel glanced at his phone and saw it was only around 11, meaning he still had plenty of time before he got anywhere near 'late.' "I supposed you might—could I open the door?"

"Sure."

He did, and he met Angel's eyes without hesitation. "I supposed you might like something to eat before you go, so I thought I should wake you sooner rather than later. Do you think you'll be ready to eat within the next hour or so?"

"Uh, sure, that's fine. I mean, whatever works for you."

"Good. Then I'll get started now." Alastor left with a smile and shut the door behind him—then opened it again about six seconds later. "I never said good morning. So. Good morning, Angel."

The blond couldn't help smiling at that, despite his confusion about why Alastor was treating him so sweetly again. "Mornin', Al." Then his tom left again, giving him a minute to try to figure out what had caused the change in his mood. Did he just work through all that frustration on his own? Did he decide not to be mad at me anymore? Angel supposed it was possible, even if he himself didn't get it; being left alone with negative feelings always just made him feel worse.

Not wanting to lose the opportunity to apologize while Al was in a good mood, Angel hurried out of bed to brush his teeth and try to tame his messy hair as well as he could. Then he went downstairs to find his tom, predictably, hard at work in the kitchen. Instead of cozying up next to him—like he wanted—Angel took a seat at the counter and asked, "So, what's on the menu today?"

"Your surname is Dellarosa. Am I right to think your family is Italian?" Alastor asked without looking up from his work. It looked like he was putting together pastries, filling them with bechamel and tomatoes.

"Yeah. Why?"

"I looked into Italian breakfast foods and didn't find much that seemed substantial, so it seemed like rusticci were my only option." After sealing the last one and brushing them all with egg wash, he popped them in the oven. His casual—and totally accurate—use of Italian caught Angel off-guard; he'd forgotten they'd put that in the order form! "Those should need about twenty-five minutes, give or take."

"But no timer, huh?" When Alastor raised an eyebrow at him, Angel remembered what he'd said before and tapped on his own temple. "Right. All up here."

"Well, figuratively. The processing might actually go on somewhere in here," Alastor added, gesturing to his chest instead, forcing Angel to hold back a laugh and remember he was still in the doghouse.

"So," he ventured hesitantly, fidgeting with his hands, "do you wanna talk about last night?"

"I think that would be best, yes." At least one of them didn't seem scared to address it. After taking a second to make him a cup of coffee and slide it across the counter to him, Alastor continued, "I'm sorry for the way I reacted after Molly left. I'm embarrassed, in fact; I know it wasn't rational."