Scars Of The Wicked (Alastor X Reader)

Chapter 12: Fragility

~~Part 1: Bashful Buck~~
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"What did she give you?" The deer asked, walking side by side with you as you made your way back to the hotel.

"Nunya." You answered.

"Beg your pardon?" He wondered.

"Sorry." You chuckled slyly. "That's short for nunya business."

"Y/n?"

"Yeees?"

"Has anyone ever told you that you're a smartass?" He asked with a smirk.

"Only throughout my whole life. But I'd rather be a smartass than a dumbass." You hummed, pulling the small pair of gloves out of the box and put them on. Funnily enough, they fit almost like they were made for you. The soft material hugging your hands perfectly as they came up just to the wrist. You discarded the box and pulled a cigarette from your pocket and placed it to your lips. "Also, watch your mouth." You teased.

"I didn't know you smoke?" He inquired. Choosing to verbally ignore the gloves, despite his insatiable curiosity, instead just making a mental note to bring it up later. He sparked his thumb and index talons together, scratching them as if his thumb was a match and lit the stoge for you. "Allow me. I'm a little surprised, seeing as you pride yourself on athletic abilities. Such a habit would hinder that sort of work."

"Yeahh, not my most proud quality." You admitted, taking a deep drag and blowing the smoke away from him. "Plus they taste terrible."

"Then why do it?"

You shrugged. "Well when I was alive it was always around me. Almost everyone that I grew up around did it. One day when I was a teenager I decided to fool around and try it myself, and, I just never put it down since. Now I guess I keep doing it because, well, I'm dead anyway and I still crave it."

"Fair enough." He shrugged. "When I started, it was quite a fad. Of course, that was back before we knew how bad they were. They even advertised them as a dietary aid."

"Right." You nodded. "Have you heard about the electronic cigarettes they make now?"

"Elec- what? How? What?" He asked. Bewilderment clear as an un-muddied lake as he tried to grasp the concept of what that was without any additional context.

"They're rechargeable gadgets that have nicotine infused oil in them which turns to a sort of vapor when inhaled." You explained. "A lot of them have funky flavors too. They were meant to be a stepping stone to quitting smoking, since they just have the nicotine and not all the other shit cigarettes have. Buuuut instead, they largely became a vice in themself."

"Interesting." He hummed with intrigue. "I see how that could be a useful alternative if used correctly, however."

"Sounds good in theory." You nodded. "Till you're really hungry and think you smell something delicious. Turn around, and it's just fuckin' Brad and his ferocious strawberry-cheesecake vape cloud of lies."

He chuckled and shook his head. "Any plans for the evening, my dear?" He asked, steering the subject back to you.

"Training Angel. After that, I don't know. Maybe mess around and try and come up with a new routine for future performances."

"You really taken a liking to that fellow, haven't you?"

You shrugged, rolling your shoulder forward. Inhaling once more of the toxic smoke before removing the cig from your mouth. Holding it at your side as you walked along. "He's alright. He's been kind so far."