When his death took you from him, it was only fair for your death brought him back to you. Through life, through death, you would always be by each others side.
~~~
All respective characters belong to Vivziepop!
As the party died down from the previous fluster of drunken Hellians wreaking havoc within the palace ballroom, it was evident to the group that you and Alastor had been gone for quite some time. Charlie was much too drunk to mutter coherent sentences, and her father was equally incapacitated.
Rosie was a godsend as she ushered overlords and nobles out of the palace, sending them home cheerful and chirpy if not fully passed out. Vaggie took charge as she ordered Pentious to escort Niffty out to the limo, followed by a very flirtatious Husk and an almost flustered Angel.
"Come on, mi amor," Vaggie lifted Charlie, letting a sigh of relief exit her when she spotted Alastor supporting you. "Where've you two been?" She smirks.
"Oh, Vaggie, you wouldn't believe the night we've had," you giggle, evidently intoxicated.
"She's had one too many glasses of champagne," Alastor admits, a tipsy smile on his face as he looks at you.
Vaggie looked between you both, almost unnerved by Alastor's gentle tone and lack of radio static at all. "Well, the limo is waiting for everyone; I'll meet you guys there?"
You give a giant yawn and nod as Alastor feels your body relax a little more. "Right behind you," Alastor assures, taking a moment to support you better. "Come now, ma chère," he places a hand on the small of your back, "shall we get you to bed?"
"Why?" You hum, leaning into his chest, "I'm fine, my darling," your hand snakes around his neck, pulling him closer.
A blush takes over his face, matching the crimson colour of his hair, "I know, my dear, I know," he chuckles, placing his hands under your legs and letting you lay bridal style in his arms.
"I've missed you, Alastor," your voice was barely a whisper against his neck. "So much,"
His breath hitches, his smile trembling as each step felt weary. That lump in his throat he could only ever describe as guilt started up once more. The guilt of not trying harder. The guilt that maybe he really did have a chance to find you sooner... yet he gave up much too soon. All the decades he's spent in this rotten hole, you've never left his mind. It drove him absolutely insane the first five decades, bloodthirsty activities spiking and his broadcast never ceasing. An angry, lost soul wandering a barren crimson land with his only source of light is an entire realm away.
Yearning for the life he once had turned from desperate greed to hopeless begging. His humanity drained further into the gutters like the blood of his slain victims against the pavement. He grew cold and uncaring, and for so long, he would console very few. And soon, his faith failed.
No longer able to hold onto the hopes of seeing you again, decades went by with slaughter for reputation. He had reached his lowest, and suddenly, nothing mattered. His mind nor heart could bear it for any longer.
He accepted he was truly alone.
~~~
Even with a slight stumble here and there, Alastor was able to get you back to your room. "Je reviens tout de suite," he yawns, walking back towards his room. (I'll be right back)
As he unlocks his room across the hall, his finger hooks around his tie, loosening it with a grunt. The swamp lands glittered with fireflies as he shoots a spark at the fireplace, instantly igniting it. With a gentle hum, he started to take out his pyjamas and lay them on the bed. In a single turn, he bumped right into you.
"I'm tired," you wrap your arms around him.
"Which is why I put you on your bed," he reminds, "what's wrong, my dear? Something else seems to be bothering you,"
In a state of exhaustion, you could hardly mutter a complete sentence, but emotions seemed to bubble up all too easily, "I wish you hadn't left me," a small sniffle starts.
"I was only across the hall-" he then quiets down when your head shakes.
"Back in New Orleans. Everything felt so... I felt so lost."
"As was I," he leads you to his bed, letting you settle next to him. "I promise I won't let anyone get between us again," his hand moves up to your face, "I won't break another promise to you,"
A spark of magic rushes by as you nod in agreement against him. Green overtakes your red dress, and instead, you are in comfortable pyjamas identical to those you had on Earth.
"I hope you don't mind," you walk back into the living room, now in your pyjamas. "I'd rather not be in such a nice dress and ruffle it all up,"
"Who am I to deny comfortability in one's own home?" He looks up, almost breaking out into a grin as you place the kettle on the stove. "You look adorable,"
"Are you being sarcastic?"
"Genuine," he corrects, adjusting his glasses before continuing to listen to the radio.
"I'm here, my darling," he soothes, letting you lay in his embrace, gentle tears rolling down your face. "Avoir le coeur sur la main, I'll listen," (wear your heart on your sleeve)
In this moment, nothing mattered but the comfort you both shared. Nothing could disturb the bubble encasing you both from reality—pattering hearts entwined with a crimson string like a soul-bound deal. Steadying breaths overlap as the gentle wind finds its way into the room. A shiver manifests up your spine, and without a second thought, Alastor had you wrapped warmly under the duvet. You were asleep in no time, and Alastor was not too far from doing the same.
He wasn't going anywhere. No. There was nothing that could take you away from him. And he was sure you felt the same. It was you and him against what life had thrown your way, and now it was whatever hell rained down upon you.
"Goodnight, Ma Chérie," he gives your temple a light kiss. "Je vous aime,"
~~~
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