Priceless (Alastor X Reader)

Like Glass

(TW⚠️/Content Advisory⚠️: Implied smut, blood and violence.)
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Alastor's Point of View:

~~~~~~dream sequence~~~~~~

The air in my room was thick.

Warm. Heavy with the smell of sweat and pheromones.

It was the kind of atmosphere one would find it hard to take a satisfying breath from. But, who needed something as useless as oxygen when she was laying there looking as pretty as she did?

Her presence was nothing shy of stunning. And her performance was near cinematic to watch unfold. Her touch... Ignited my senses; setting them ablaze like a wildfire. My skin burned still from where her nails once barred their mark, a reminder of our moment of unity that would soon heal and fade with time.

The noises we uttered could have made even the more experienced of bodies blush as we filled the room unabashedly with passionate sounds. Such contrast to the quietude that engulfed us now. Only the sound of crickets chirping outside the open window echoed in our silence. Woven with the soft, almost inaudible noises she'd make in her sleep. She was too precious. So amusing.

I watched as her chest rose and fell in time with each slow breath she took. Her face was peaceful in expression, neutral as her mind floated somewhere else to start dreaming. Her hair was messy, unruly and unintentionally pretty as the strands cascaded onto the pillow beneath her; like rivers of color unapologetically decorating the silk fabric underneath.

A thin layer of sweat still clung to me as I sat on the edge of the bed. The subtle notes of her fragrance lingered on my skin from when her body was flush against my own.

And as I lay there playing our moment over and over in my head like a distant memory, I felt my mind begin to pull apart from itself. Almost like I was no longer in control. Instead, watching myself live from behind a glass panel.

From behind my own eyes I watched almost helplessly as my focus changed from the hardwood floor beneath my feet to the shining glint of metal peering back at me from the drawer of my nightstand. My hands, as if with a mind of their own, reached for the blade.

I didn't want to. But I couldn't bring myself to stop. Not when I reached forward to open the drawer, and not when my fingers curled around the handle of the knife.

'What are you doing?' My thoughts begged to know.

I felt as though my body no longer belonged to me as I watched myself crawl overtop of her. Being careful to not wake her as I straddled her; pinning her with my own weight.

'No... Stop it,' my thoughts pleaded. 'Not her.
Not her!!'

Leaning down, my lips pressed against her forehead with a feather light touch. The words 'goodnight, sweetheart' spilling from my lips without me even meaning to; like I was just a puppet being operated by some outside force. And as my lips parted from her skin, my free hand pressed lightly against her mouth.

'Please, no!' My mind begged. Tears falling from my eyes despite the smile on my face; the smile that didn't even feel like my own. I didn't want to hurt her, quite the opposite in fact. But my thoughts were drowned out by a numbness that overwhelmed my whole being. Not even feeling a shred of hesitation as her eyes fluttered open when the tip of the blade began to dance along her skin.

Streams of crimson pooled and trickled down from my absentminded designs, my hand muffling her pleas as I continued to carve away despite me wanting desperately to stop. I saw the fear in her eyes, the thorough betrayal she felt. Any trust formed between us was gone and all that remained was pain and terror.