𝐈𝐍𝐒𝐀𝐍𝐈𝐓𝐘

[ 𝟒𝟐 ] - 𝐑𝐞𝐜𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐲

𝐈𝐍𝐒𝐀𝐍𝐈𝐓𝐘 | 𝘼𝙡𝙖𝙨𝙩𝙤𝙧

【 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐓𝐘 𝐓𝐖𝐎 】

Did I die again?

Am I in double Hell?

    Was Angel right—is that a thing?

Holy Mother of shit, I feel like I just got bulldozed by a damned truck.

Cracking open her eyes, the first thing (Y/N) saw was the familiar ceiling of Alastor's room, shadows flickering across the space from the crackling flames within the lit fireplace. Flopping an arm over her eyes with a groan, she then tried to sit up only to cry out from the pain that sizzled and arched its way through her stomach. Sucking in a sharp breath through her teeth, she tentatively poked the lump of bandages situated around her form, flinching when she felt another bout of pain.

    "I swear when I see Vox again, I'm gonna take a baseball bat to that plasma TV he's got for a head," she grumbled under her breath.

    "My, my..." a smooth voice hummed. "What an interesting turn of events, wouldn't you say?"

    (Y/N) jumped at the voice—once again yelping from her wound—as she turned her head to where Alastor was sat in one of the plush chairs by the fire place, a cup of coffee in one hand while the other hand helped prop up the open book he had situated on his lap. His smile was as excessive as ever, his eyes curving in delight even as he gazed upon her now awake figure.

    "Alastor..." she blinked, looked down to her half-naked form—she still had a bra on—looked back up again, and then promptly became a flustered mess as she hoisted up her blanket to cover herself.

    I know he doesn't care for this, but still!

    He could at least warn me!

    Muttering incoherently whilst fanning her face to cool herself down, she almost missed what Alastor did next if she hadn't noticed from the corner of her eye him setting his book down and standing up to approach her. She expected him to chastise her over not telling him of Vox's doings, but what she didn't expect was for him to place a hand on her cheek and just stare at her.