Chapter 32: It's Okay to Cry

4.3K 160 116
                                    

"Darling?" Alastor asked with a yawn.

Propping himself up on his elbow, and rubbing the tired from his eyes with his fists. The sheets beside him were cold in absence of you, as was the air that gently nipped at his exposed skin. The blanket sliding off him slightly as he sat upright and looked around the dim room. Seeing you not inside, but instead smoking out on your balcony.

Sitting on the concrete with your back against the glass door. A loose-fit black t-shirt covered just passed your shorts. He noticed you must have gotten changed at some point before going outside.

The buck let out another small yawn. Swinging his legs out off the side of the bed and feeling the carpet against his feet. Tired still looming over him much like a thick cloud as he pushed himself onto his feet and straightened out his pajama pants. Deciding not to put a shirt on before joining you.

Curling his fingers around the handle he slid the door open. The soft swooshing noise alerting your focus, and you turned your head in direction of the noise. Offering him a soft, polite smile as you looked up at him. He smiled back.

Your eyes still looked tired and a little puffy. But, significantly less than how they were last night. You felt exhausted. However some much needed sleep did you well. Still feeling the lingering effects of a hangover, you were looking forward to getting some water and sustenance into your body.

Alastor sat down beside you. Grabbing the pack of smokes from the floor beside you and took a gasper for himself. Placing it between his lips and scratching his index and thumb talons together as if to strike a match. He lit it and took his first drag of the morning while you exhaled your own; grey smoke pooling from the corner of your mouth.

"Good morning." You said softly. Alastor wasn't exactly a morning person, but only up until he had his first cup of coffee. Until then he was tired and mostly quiet; but hardly unpleasant to be around. In his drowsy state he smiled at you again and hummed pleasantly. Resting the side of his head on your shoulder.

"Good morning, beautiful." He cooed tiredly.

You scoffed playfully and reached up to cradle his head close, and began petting his ears. A gesture he grew to love you doing. His eyes fluttered closed blissfully when he felt your nails gently scratching just the right spot, and let out a soft breath of static as he relaxed further into it. Similar to that of a purring noise.

"I don't know what's beautiful about bed-head, puffy eyes and morning breath; but if that's what gets you going, then I won't argue." You joked.

"Oh hush." He huffed. Turning his head slightly to give you a soft smooch on your shoulder before resting his cheek against it once more. "How are you feeling?"

You shrugged gently. Taking another drag of your cigarette your eyes cast down to the city below. "I feel a lot of things." You answered blankly. "Physically, I just want water and food."

"Hm." He hummed. Kissing your cheek and sitting upright as you released him from your gentle hold. Taking a drag himself and blowing the smoke away from you. "Those things can be fixed. How about emotionally?"

"I want to rip my parents apart." You said without remorse.

Alastor chuckled.

"No, for real." You said with a bit more enthusiasm. Glancing over at him as you flicked the ash off your stoge with your nail. "I want to hurt them. For years of mental damage and emotional neglect that no amount of help will ever fix."

"Careful what you wish for, darling."

"Why wouldn't I want that?" You asked. "I can't forgive them. Not for this... I have family, but no parents as far as they're concerned..."

Scars Of The Wicked (Alastor X Reader)Where stories live. Discover now