Love Most Unexpected - Radiodust

Chapter 3 - A Living Memory

(Haha, I should be working. Instead, I did an hour of research on New Orleans and other things from the early 1900s...)

    Alastor took a deep breath and walked along, past the rose bushes he visited often. Despite Angel's attitude earlier, he wasn't in a bad mood. If anything, he was happy to be alone again.

    Angel was most likely not in a great mental or emotional state. Sure, he'd improved a little in his time at the hotel, but, overall, it was still obvious he wasn't as happy as he'd like everyone to think. 

    Alastor dismissed his thoughts, not wanting to think about Angel anymore as it'd become a problem in the last week. His thoughts slowly brought him back to his home in New Orleans. He thought about the pleasant memories, such as the warm, breezy summer nights. His mother used to walk with him on the beach at dusk, as it wasn't far from home. He remembered the parades and carnivals that were so popular in New Orleans. The view from the top of the Ferris wheel made the Crescent City glisten. 
    He'd look out the window at the docks many nights after he'd escaped to his room. His father wasn't always a healthy person to be around, and Alastor skipped many dinners because of it. 

    Alastor thought about the radio station he'd come to love in his later years on earth. 
   
    There was one night, in particular, he couldn't seem to forget...

    It was rainy and dark out. The wind was blowing calmly and steadily, a few leaves scampering across the street. Alastor was walking home from his radio station, holding his umbrella tightly. It was quiet, except for the low howl of the wind and the distant thunder. The rain made a pitter-patter on the stone around him as he walked, and though it was calming, it was still inconvenient. 
    Alastor's footsteps were the only thing penetrating the night as he made his way up the path to his home. He stopped at his doorstep, pulling out a key and quickly opening the door. He stepped inside, setting his jacket on the coat hanger. 

   Sighing, he turned on the light and set down his umbrella next to the front door to dry. A quiet grin was on his face, as he didn't have much energy left for the day. He retreated to the kitchen, where he poured himself a glass of water and leaned against the counter. He closed his eyes and listened to the soft rain hit the roof. 

    Leaving the glass in the sink, he left the kitchen and walked into the living room, his footsteps hitting the wooden floor beneath him. Sitting down in front of the piano, he smiled, lifting the cover. His fingers, hesitating, began to play music. It started softly and gradually ascended, hitting its peak. Clair de lune was the name of the song he loved so much. He'd known it for what felt like forever. Alastor's fingers were moving up and down the piano, letting the tune build up before dropping it again. Just as he'd hit a climax, he heard a faint knock. 

    Alastor stopped playing immediately and lifted his head. He wasn't one to ignore knocks at the door, so as any polite man would do, he stood and promptly made his way to the front of the house. 

    Opening the door, Alastor was surprised to see a tall man standing before him. 
    "Hey," the man said quietly. "Sorry ta bother you at such a late hour, but have you seen a woman that looks a bit like me? Small in figure, blonde hair?" 

    Alastor thought for a moment. "Hmm... no. I can't say I've seen anyone since coming home from work," he responded. The other man tipped his hat, saying, "all right. Thank ya. Sorry again for botherin' ya so late."
    Alastor wouldn't let him walk away that easily. He was curious about the situation. 
    "Really, it's no problem at all!" the radio host said. "I take it someone is missing?" 

    The man was a bit surprised to know Alastor was genuinely interested. "...uh... yeah. Sista's been missin' for a couple a' days, now," he replied. 

    Alastor shook his head. "My condolences," he said. "I hope you find her soon, my friend. Say, could I ask you a question?" 
    The other man looked down at Alastor and nodded.
    "I've never seen you around here before. Are you new in town?" Alastor asked, looking up at the man. 

    "Oh. Heh, nah. I ain't stayin' here for long. I actually live in Brooklyn. Only here ta clear up some family business, and my sista' managed to get herself lost already..." 

    Alastor blinked a couple of times. "Brooklyn! Wow. That's a long journey!" he said, impressed.

    The man chuckled. "Well, I oughta be goin', now," he said, tipping his hat. "Thanks!" He turned on his heel and continued walking down the street, disappearing into the dark. Alastor watched him, a grin on his face and an expression full of absolute curiosity and fascination. 

    "...what an interesting fellow," Alastor said to himself, shutting the door softly. 

    Alastor found himself walking aimlessly through the garden, letting his mind drift back to memories of his living life. Alastor was certainly one to live in the past. He wasn't sure if it hurt or helped him. Regardless, the memories were nice. 

    He never did see that mysterious fellow again. 

    Well, not in his living life. 

    He knew Angel had been the one to come to his door that night. 

    He'd also been somewhat hesitant to bring it up to him. He doubted the spider remembered the encounter. If Alastor had said anything about it, he was sure it'd change their relationship. Alastor wasn't ready to admit he found Angel engaging.  
    Alastor's goal never was to find Angel. If anything, he'd pushed the memory elsewhere for a long time before arriving at the hotel. 

    It was pure coincidence that they met again. 

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Thank you for reading chapter 2! Constructive criticism is accepted in the comment section.