+*A Beautiful Note*+ (Alastor x Reader)

𐕣 Chapter 23 𐕣

November 10, 1932

.+Y/N's POV+.

I slammed through the back doors to our home, gasping for air as I felt my chest burn, my mouth dry from panting. I rushed to the restroom and scrubbed my hands as Alastor scrubbed his in the kitchen sink. The police could be here any moment, they could've seen us or we might've left something behind. We need to pack right away, be prepared to flee. We've become too risky, too uncalculated, it was either that or the world was against us. But that's when it hit me. I slowly dried my hands on a towel, feeling my stomach sink lower and lower as I slowly made my way to the kitchen, eyes wide.

"A-Alastor.." I muttered out. He turned towards me, drying his own hands before coming to me, tilting his head.

"You look as if you've seen a ghost, darling, what is it?" He went to reach for my cheek, only for me to lean away for the first time ever, which seemed to startle my now husband.

"When I burst through her bedroom door.. she.. she was writing something on a piece of paper.. I didn't realize until now-"

"What?" For once, his murderous glare was aimed at my eyes, which brought a terrible, dreadful feeling. Tears came to my eyes, I couldn't handle Alastor being upset with me, I realized that now, he's never been so unhappy with me before.

"I-I heard the sirens..! And it slipped my mind! Alastor, please, I was worried about getting us out of there!" I yelped as his hand grabbed my face with a death grip, his eyes wide with insanity. Is this what my victims felt? This kind of fear?

"Dear, do tell me, what happens if one of our names are on that piece of paper?" I began to sob, attempting to pull his hand off of my face. I was loving and understanding when he said he left his rifle behind! Why can't he the same way with this? Did he forget who I am? Who he married? Anger started to bubble up rather than fear.

"I was understanding when you left your rifle behind with the body! I was there to support you and comfort you! Just as a wife should! At our wedding you made a vow, did you forget-!"

"Our lives are being gambled with, might I remind you-!" He bellowed, staggering back as he caressed his hand, which began to drip blood. I felt the warm fluid run down my chin, sniffling as I wiped my tears. I had bitten his hand.

"Stay away from me! You act as if I'm oblivious to that!" By now I was screeching, raging, I was upset. Upset that the man I had fallen for decided to touch me in such a way. "I don't want to be married to you if this is how our marriage is to play out! You're a bastard!" Alastor rushed for a towel to stop the bleeding, grunting in pain when his arm hit something. "I regret marrying you!" I didn't mean that.. but I also don't want to be loved like this, if you can even call it love. I rushed away to the stairs, going to my room and slamming it shut. But my room was also his room now. My bedroom got turned into a hobby room of sorts. Although, I didn't care if this was his room as well at the moment. I snatched a towel, wiping my mouth and spitting pieces of skin from my mouth before grabbing a duffel bag, stuffing it with clothes and essentials I'd need if I needed to flee. There is no we if this is how I am to be treated.

I tossed the towel onto the bed, slinging the bag over my shoulder and smoothing over my skirt. I made my way back downstairs, going towards the locked room where Alastor's voodoo items were kept. I snatched the key from the counter and unlocked the room, tossing my bag and slamming the doors shut. Alastor sat on the cushioned chair in front of the fire place, staring off at his bitten hand.

|+|Alastor's POV|+|

As she went back up to our bedroom I stared at the bite, horrified with my own actions. My father did things such as this, became violent with my mother, and I vowed to never be like such a man, if you could even call him a man. Yet, here I am, sitting with the consequences of doing such a thing to my beloved wife. And she was right, she was loving and understanding when I come home in a panic about leaving my rifle, but I had gone mad with her. How ironic, how I always get so infuriated when another man treats my doe like this, but here I was.