. . .
"Sometimes you grow to love the shadow that follows."
— Donna Lynn Hope
. . .
"R-right!" Alastor refused to believe he honest to gods squeaked because he most certainly did not. No freaking way. His voice stopped cracking before he even hit fifteen! "L-last night... yeah, I... uh... look, I'm really sorry about last night," he immediately blurted out before she could go on because he's seriously not ready to hear more what she has to say about how stupid he had acted in front of her. Again.
Besides, he figured he might as well get over with it. Quick and clean... rip it off like a band-aid, you know? Right?
Right...
Her only response was a slow blink.
Well, fuck.
...Is this working or not?
Talk to her, my foot.
William, you're bad at giving people advice!
Or maybe the kid should have just seriously advised them to go get some couple's therapy or something because they both clearly needed it!
Even if they weren't really a couple...
Alastor hurriedly cleared his throat, "I mean... look, in my defense, I really wasn't myself last night because of—w-well, you know... but it's not really an excuse if I seriously made you or the kid uncomfortable back there. I'm really sorry that you guys have to listen to all that shit. Anyone would be really creeped out, yeah? Please just forget about it. I'd really appreciate it if we just pretend that did not just happened."
Winters frowned, "But I..."
"It's okay!" he waved his hands up immediately, his face hurting quite a bit at how widely he was forcing himself to smile at her, "I swear! We don't have to talk about it. If you don't want to. I don't—I'm not expecting an answer... or a-anything like that, I mean. Really. Look, I... wouldn't be bothered by it. Please don't think too much on whatever I just said–"
"Because you don't mean it?"
"NO!"
Winters had been staring down at the counter for some time during the course of his rambling with a distinctly blank look on her face but at his sudden screech, her gaze instantly snapped up in surprise.
Shit.
"I mean... well, of course I mean it! But you know I wasn't seriously in the right head space during all that, right?" he nods, almost to himself. "Right."
Fuck. Fuckitty-fuck. Why is Winters looking more dismayed the longer he opens his mouth? Was it something he said? What on earth was he even saying?! Someone, anyone, please make him stop talking, don't let him make this worse!
He hesitates for a moment, before he decides, you know what? Screw it. "Look, I don't want to play the blame game right now but... yeah, this is definitely Aphrodite's fault. And Eros too."
For some reason, Alastor thinks he shouldn't be dissing two deities of love at the same time out loud... but whatever. It's not like his love life is going smooth sailing, no thanks to them. In fact, it just got worse because of them!
Winters must also be thinking something along the lines because she gives him such a disapproving look before shaking her head a bit.
"That's not it," she says.
And Alastor tries not to look like a very guilty moron at that, "Oh, okay. So... so you do w-want to talk about it? Sure. Okay, cool. Cool, cool, cool, cool. That's cool. No problemo. We can do that. We can just talk. Let's talk, baby."
She raised her eyebrows at that.
"Ah, shit. I'm making this worse, aren't I—?"
Winters suddenly reaches out across the table to place a gentle hand on Alastor's chin. And his mouth immediately snaps close with a particularly embarrassing loud click.
Because it was something Alastor has come to pick up about her very quickly from close observation is that Winters actually prefers to initiate physical contact (in William's case, she definitely doesn't mind using his head as an armrest whenever he's seated or leaning against him) but is not a fan of having it sprung on her without a warning... that's why Alastor only hovers or stayed as close as he can or only goes right at her space whenever he thinks he can get away with it.
Touch is a complicated concept but also something very important when it comes to his mate. Hell, most of the time she does touch something, she's still wearing gloves. Like a barrier. Or some sort of shield.
Wait.
She's not even wearing gloves–
"Alastor?"
"Y-yeah...?"
"Breathe," she reminds him.
He wasn't even aware that he was about to hyperventilate. And as Alastor silently takes a deep breath, his face feeling absurdly warm as he inhales, exhales for a few moments as she calmly retracted her hand.
She has tattoos on the back of her hands too.
"I just wanted to inform you that I don't mind what you said. As a matter of fact," Winters continues, interlacing her fingers again to rest her chin on her knuckles before Alastor can make sense of the familiar-looking flower depicted on her skin. Is it the same design he had seen on her back? "...I am already aware even before then. So please, stop worrying about it. It doesn't really bother me."
The timer suddenly started acting up but both Alastor and the goddess of shadows made no move to quiet it down or even react as they stared at one another.
"So ... you're okay with it...b-because you... you already know," Alastor uneasily swallows, suddenly feeling very self-conscious at her piercing stare, "It's because of that one time I made a fool out of myself when I got drunk, isn't it?"
Her eyes widened a fraction, "You remember."
It wasn't a question.
"Yeah..." he still answered, nodding.
She tilts her head, ever so slightly, looking equal parts surprised and relieved as she appraised him for a quiet moment, "...I was beginning to wonder if you never will."
"So that's the big secret?"
"Not really. But it is one of them."
He huffs, his voice coming out a bit lighter at the easy admission, "Oh man... I knew I was so wasted but compared to how I acted back then, it was completely nothing worse like last night!"
She shrugs, "Hm..."
"Is that really all you have to say?"
"Last night was scary," she relents.
"Why do you have to keep that conversation a secret though? Compared to me, it's not like you did anything embarrassing for that matter," Alastor wheedles, curiously.
He didn't really remember all of it to be honest, but he thinks he remembered enough to get the picture of what happened... he just couldn't understand why in some of them, Winters looked really sad while she was promising to let him stay with her though.
And had Alastor not been looking at her, he would have missed the way she bodily tensed up, her lips curling into a pained-looking grimace.
His stomach suddenly churned uneasily.
"Hold on," Alastor told her, already standing up and turning away to go get the muffins just a few steps behind him before they burned for real or something, William's going to chew him out for real if the muffins turned up looking like coals. "I'll just–"
"I was angry. I don't like having a mate," she admitted.
