cupid clearly hates me.

[ 15 ]

[ This is the best Alastor fan art out there hahahah. Sorry sorry, I'll get back to writing now— ]

[ Also this chapter is kinda cOnfUsing sorry I'm just trying to make plot progression happen you know ]

☆

You ate your breakfast quickly, for you were especially excited to start yet another day with Alastor.

"Is there anything specific you would care to do today?" Alastor asked you as he cut another bite out of his fluffy round pancake. His posture was perfect as he did so: shoulders held back, elbows jutting out, grin polite.

You shook your head no.

When Alastor didn't respond, you decided to tease him. Mimicking his stance, you rolled your shoulder blades high up on your back and stuck your elbows out. He noticed your movement and tilted his head to the side like a curious dog, a humorous smile scrunching his eyes together. "What are you doing?" he wondered aloud.

"I'm eating like you," you informed him as you cut a tiny bite of pancake.

"I do not eat like that!"

"You sure do," you said through a mouthful of food.

"No way! I eat very normally, thank you very much," Alastor said, rolling his eyes before going back to eating just the same way as before. You felt comfortable mocking him because, even if you went to the greatest lengths to tease him, he never actually got angry with you. He'd always just laugh your silly behavior off and even tease you back.

You glanced down at your hands as you moved the knife back and forth, slicing into the syrupy food. "So," you said quickly. Not looking away from your food, you continued, "do you sing a lot? Or just sometimes, for fun?"

"I do sing quite a bit, yes. Usually when I'm by myself. It makes me happy. Plus, it is one of the most light-hearted ways to express oneself."

"Oh, yeah, I guess it is. I like to write sometimes. You know, to express myself."

"What do you write?"

"Stories," you admitted with a shrug. It wasn't something you talked about often, mostly because you only wrote when you were stressed. The stories helped you relax by letting you escape the terrible difficulty of reality.

You had done quite a bit of writing after killing those kids.

"Well, you'll have to let me read them sometime. If you're as good of a writer as you are a singer, well, I don't know what I would—" Alastor gasped then, as if struck by a brilliant idea. If you were in a cartoon, you were sure a lightbulb would have clicked to life right above his head. "That's it! I know where we're going today!"

Expectant, you set your silverware down on either side of your china plate, each one thumping softly as they hit the table below. You folded your hands together in your lap and looked at Alastor, who was still looking as bright as ever, his ears twitching slightly with excitement. "Where are we going?"

"It's a surprise," Alastor said, smirking secretively.

"A surprise?" you repeated, feeling something fizzle up inside of you. You imitated an exaggerated pouty face. "But I wanna know now."