The Fox and the Hunter | Alastor x reader |

~His Voice~

You wake up on what is definitely not a couch.

For a moment, you're terrified you're home. However, looking around the room, you're certainly not home. You slip from the bed, finding slippers by the edge of the bed. You smile, trying to ignore last night and the idea he carried you to bed and tucked you in. Despite your efforts, you need a second before emerging to stop from making these odd sensations in your chest from showing themselves. They will die eventually.

Probably.

You take happy steps into the kitchen, a bit surprised to see Alastor humming and snapping his way through the jazz on the radio as he cooks. "You're... here?"

"Good morning my dear! Why, the storm caused a bit of an issue! I will only have the day before it is fixed!" He did not stay to make sure she was alright. He didn't see a point going in if he could not broadcast.

You smile sitting at the table. You tilt your head when he does not go back to the snapping and humming. "Why'd ya stop?"

"Stop what my dear?"

"The way you were enjoying the music." He pauses with a small chuckle.

It takes a moment, but he goes back to the movements as he cooks.

You don't talk about last night.

Neither of you bring it up.

Even when he places breakfast in front of you. It's not brought up. "Could... I... you think I could go with you tomorrow?"

"Haha to the station?" you nod, and he taps a finger on the table. "No."

You're a bit surprised, but at the same time not really. "But..."

He gives you a tightlipped smile with his head tilted.

"I just..." Your face flushes. How do you admit that you don't want to be alone? "It's..." Oh...

This feeling is familiar. Your heart is picking up pace. The unsettled churning of your stomach. The sweat in your palms. You know, in your head you know he'd never raise a hand to you. Right? If you push for reasons. If you try to convince him to let you go with him, he'd never... you... you're dissociating. "Excuse me for a second." you're not sure how your voice sounds. You stand, but the world is spinning.

"Ah, whatever should I do with you?" He watches taking a sick sort of pleasure in the way you squirm. Fighting old habits and instincts. He doesn't let you get further than standing though. You're too easy to push back to your chair. It's just a light tap of your cane to the chest. "If you would like to explain why you wish to go with me, I will listen."

You struggle for another moment or two before your mind stops overwhelming you. "It's stupid... I mean I'm into this stuff but also..."

You sort of motion to yourself as if what you're trying to say is obvious.

"Haha! You are afraid of being on your own. That is not dumb! It is human instinct!" Fear is such a delectable observation. Yet the thought of this one being alone and afraid without him... without him to watch, that must be it... is wrong. It does not sound right to let her be afraid. His little dame. "Well then! I shall take you to work then! We will need a story, of course! Ah, how about something simple? You are a country dear. A lovely dear with some money and a mother who wished you to experience the city and entrusted you to a very old family friend! Me, the best tour guide! Your injuries are from a terrible accident on your way here!"

You smile, jumping in your seat with a happy little squirm. "Thank you! Thank you, thank you, thank you Al! You're the best!"

That odd thing twirls in his chest again. He can't tell if he wants to pounce and gut that expression from your face to frame it, or just stare forever at how your eyes shine so bright and pretty, and all because of him nonetheless! "No need to thank me, darling!" What are you doing to him?