Posing For A Picture | Radiostatic

† | Chapter Sixteen | †

† | CHAPTER SIXTEEN | †

† | EYE SPY | †

"Vox, darling!" Alastor called, tossing the door open with a soft hum. He walked inside and set a few bags on the table, "I'm home, love!" He continued. Charlie followed in and set her things on the table. She glanced up at Alastor and tilted her head but he gave her a small wave off. "Come now, we weren't out that long..." He murmured to himself. After a few minutes of silence, he began to walk up the stairs. Perhaps he couldn't hear me. Alastor thought. Once he made it to the second floor, he knocked on their shared bedroom door. "Are you sleeping?"

Still there was no answer, so he opened the door. To his disappointment, he found nothing.

He raised a brow for a moment, before he made his way to his tower. Mic set against the wall, watching Alastor pick up his telephone by the base and balance the receiver between his shoulder and neck. He began to gently pull the rotary dial to input Vox's phone number. Alastor wasn't a fan of technology, evidently, as he's shown multiple times before, but one thing he was exceptionally grateful for, was indeed the telephone.

He stood almost completely still as the phone rang.

And rang.

And eventually came to a stop.

Maybe he just... Didn't hear it?

Alastor thought. He punched in the numbers again, this time setting down the base of the telephone on the desk and leaning forward. His elbows almost painfully dug into the desk. He felt his ears and tail weigh heavy, adding to his irritation. When he didn't receive an answer, he slammed the receiver back on the base and let out a huff. "Damnit."

"What did I tell you?" Mic chirped. "That good for nothing sleaze, you tell him you don't want to get it up, and he gets so pissy he runs off. No doubt with that moth again." Alastor turned his head and glanced at Mic, his brows furrowing firmly. "Now you stop that, that's entirely unrelated." The deer let out a soft breath through his nose, before it scrunched up. "Oh, you know it's true. I know it. Let's face the facts, what else would he do in this situation, huh, Al?"

Mic began to raise its voice. "I say something and you ignore it, in the name of that tantrum throwing television box. Go ahead, but watch me be right."

"I won't listen to this- this- this slander!" And with that, Alastor finally turned to face Mic fully. He felt his heart thrumming in his chest. In recent years, he's grown accustomed to the feeling, his peace seemed nearly forgotten now. Alastor let out a few soft pants, barely letting himself catch enough air before speaking again with a newfound urgency. "I'm going to look for my husband!" He suddenly began to head for the door, his movements shaky and firm all the same.

Mic huffed and pushed itself off the wall, which ultimately made it fall on the ground.

With a hesitant sigh, Alastor stopped. For a moment he was still, until he walked over and picked up the Microphone, tracing the stick with his fingers tentatively. "I love Vox, and he loves me. We're above petty behavior, and I won't rerun this pathetic episode with you, Mike." Alastor's expression faltered for a moment, quickly brought back up for him to speak. "Do I make myself clear?" He asked in a sharp tone as he bared his teeth. The mic said nothing for a while but eventually brought itself to answer.

"Crystal."

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