Dropped into a world she was never meant to be a part of, Aria finds herself cold and alone.
Aimlessly she wanders through the streets of hell, just trying to survive within this brutal world.
She has no recollection of her death or even why she w...
I got a paper cut at work, send thoughts and prayers.
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Here have this, too
Aria's POV
Most of today I've spent transferring my stuff over to Alastor's room. Charlie had already assumed we would be sharing a bedroom, and had politely asked me to clear the room I'd been previously using.
Something about "room for new guests" and I didn't really have the heart to tell her there's plenty of room.
Alastor had offered me help, saying he could just snap everything over, but I declined. This gave me something to do while he worked.
What is he working on, you ask? The hotel finances. He's good with numbers, apparently, and he's also fantastic at budgeting.
Or so I've been told.
I don't exactly get the nitty gritty details of his personality outside of the one he shows me. I'll probably get a bit more of it the longer we're down here, but most of the time he's very...secretive...of his deals and under the table meetings.
Unfortunately, financing takes up a lot of time. Back before I got my noggin working properly, the absence of him during the day wasn't too unbearable.
It was...annoying...but not unbearable.
Now I'm nearly done cleaning out this room, and it's not even 2 pm yet.
He's never done until at least 6 or 7.
Thankfully this isn't an everyday thing, and when he finishes a full day of work that usually means there's a few days afterwords where he doesn't have much work at all.
Anyway, I folded the last of my clothing and set it in the final empty space in the drawer I was working on. Alastor had, unprompted, changed the style of his room.
I had protested, but he insisted that I didn't have to be subjected to his darker tastes since he knows I like light colors. Although I do love his taste, he's right, his room was a bit dreary.
He added cream colored furniture and rugs, lightening the paint on the walls as well. He kept the comforter a deep wine red color, along with the accents on the night tables.
Overall he's incredibly good at interior design, which is helpful because I suck at it.
With a sigh I closed the drawer and stood up, looking around. The clean area looked like a picture from a magazine, the comforter was pristinely pressed and the bed was made perfectly.
I wanted to jump on it.
Mostly to roll around in it and get his smell all over me. His bed smells just like him, and I could legitimately lay in it all day. Since he can't be here with me, it's like a big hug from him.
