Alastor X Reader: Blood For Freedom

4. Eccentric

*** Your POV ***

As promised to yourself - you spent most of your first day in the hotel redecorating your room to your hearts content. Once it was all to your liking you headed down, thinking you could get a drink. The grumpy cat - which you now knew was Husker - was at the bar ready to serve much to your delight.

"Goooooddd evening." You slid into a bar stool with a pleasant smile. The cat stopped wiping the counter looking up at you appraisingly.

"Hm." He hummed gruffly, "What can I do for you?" He asked swinging the towel he was using to over his shoulder.

"You happen to have some french or italian here? Not chilled, preferably." It wasn't a weird question - most high in bars in Hell served aged blood. A type of alcohol made out of, well, blood. Especially when it came to any places where the royals like the Goetia frequented, after all many of them shared the appetite. Most of them just didn't need it to not be miserable like you did though.

"Uhhh french or italian.... what, exactly?" Husker looked back you quite puzzled, leading you to furrow your brows in confusion as well.

"I dunno, you guys get that granular here? 17th century, wine." You waved your arm, naming the time and style of aged blood you drank most of the time, thinking that this was just one of the fancier places so you could be specific.

"What?" The cat looked even more confused.

"What?" You stared at each other. Until finally you figured out what was actually going on - he had no clue what you were talking about. "Ooooohhhhh." You exhaled. Well, this might be a problem, you thought. "Mmmhhh, nevermind, changed my mind, a whiskey please." You corrected quickly.

Husker was looking at you with one eyebrow raised but poured you a glass anyway. You drank in a slightly awkward silence after that. Very pleasantly surprised to hear that staticy radio voice from the other day.

"Hello dear, how are you finding the hotel?"

"Oh, Alastor, its good to see you again!" You swiveled on the chair to face him, "Its been quite lovely, the facilities are in great shape." Alastor's eyes brightened a little as you put emphasis on what you knew was his part of the job here from the writing on his office door.

"You two met?" Husker grumbled from behind the bar.

"Just yesterday." Alastor glanced at Husker briefly "Well dear, I'm glad they are to your liking. I was most curious when Lucifer himself insisted on hiring you."

"Oh please, nothing that special really." You giggled, unable to take your eyes off him and as a result also unable to not keep noticing what you thought were little tell tale signs of discomfort. He kept it under wraps ridiculously well, the smile being the pin that held it all together. But his one shoulder was more scrunched in than the other, and his weight was distributed unevenly despite standing with his feet parallel, shoulder width apart.

"I beg to differ, when the king of Hell vouches for someone it surely means they are pretty special." Okay he was sharp, you had to give him that. "So, what will you be doing for us here?"

"I'd love to know!" You exclaimed, trying to keep a straight face, "Neither he or Charlie gave me the run down yet."

"Perhaps I can ask them for you, make sure they are on top of it." Alastor suggested, inspecting his gloved hand with an air of mild annoyance. Seems like their general airheadedness caused him headaches.

"Perhaps." You gave a half shoulder shrug, "Or maybe you could make something up, I'm sure they would just nod and agree."

"Hah," Alastor gave out a small laugh, clearly one he wasn't expecting to give, "You know, you are probably right, I'll think about it." Although it pleased you to get a genuine reaction out of him, you didn't like that he moved his neck a little like he was trying to hide a different physical reaction. It kept bothering you, there is no way you were just imagining right?

"Why thank you, oh gracious sir facility manager." You teased, raising your drink in a little toast.

"I am more commonly known as the Radio Demon, actually." He mused his grin widening a little, "But just Alastor is fine, dear."

"Wait, that Radio Demon? The one that broadcast news, music, and screams a while back?"

You were surprised to hear that, a little over century ago you were at the employ of Beelzebub, who rented you from Paimon during a music tour around the pride ring, and the sweet thing gifted you an old school radio you had found in an antique shop during one of her many shopping escapades. You never bought anything, but she noticed you liked it and got it for you. Unfortunately, when you got back Paimon broke it after he realized you liked listening to it in your free time. It was a long time since but you were kind of surprised you didn't recognize his voice.

"Just the one dear!" Alastor seemed absolutely thrilled you knew about it, "Were you a listener?"

"Avid." You admitted, "You did wonderful... work." You pointed a finger from your glass at him as you found a good word to call it. You didn't frequent his more eccentric broadcasts, but on those lonely painful nights it was cathartic to hear someone scream that wasn't you.

"Fantastic, another fucking psycho." Husker rolled his eyes. "What, you a crazy cannibal serial killer too?"

"Um, rude." You put your empty glass down. "But no. Also, whose one of those?"

"He is talking about myself dear." Alastor twirled his cane, brushing his fingers on the microphone, watching your reaction from the corner of his eyes.

"So... handsome gent cannibalistic serial killer radio host?" You put it all together, "You must have many an interesting story to tell."

Before Alastor could respond, though not before his eyebrows twitched in amusement at your entire statement, Husker interjected. "What are you then?" The cat took your glass away with a raised eyebrow, his eyes jumping between you an Alastor.

"That, my feline friend, is for me to know." This is where the questioning had to stop, to much further and they gather more information than was safe for them. Despite being a little rough on the edges, Husker seemed like a nice enough man. And you really didn't want to involve Alastor. Whatever was causing him to hide that - whatever it was - must be quite enough, he didn't need your mess. Little did you know your wording of that declaration only made the deer demon that much more intrigued, though he knew better than to push too hard right away.

"Husker, where are your manners!?" Alastor chastised him, "You should know better than to ask a lady questions about her previous life."

"Right, Boss." Husker huffed, rolling his eyes.

"Well, I'll be off." Alastor put his cane behind him again, "It was a pleasure chatting with you, Y/n." With that he sauntered off, the ends of his tailcoat swaying jovially. You watched him for a moment before turning back to Husker.

"Is he always like that?" You asked him.

"Like what?"

"Stiff?" You pondered, "He seems uncomfortable, but I can't tell since I don't know if he's just always like that."

"Dunno," Husker shrugged nonchalantly, "Dunno, an' don' care."

Something about the cat's response rubbed you the wrong way, but you finished another drink making small talk before moving on with your evening. Everyday you kept coming down from your room for meals or a drink, and once in a while you would see Alastor. You found yourself a bit enamored by his mannerisms and facial features. He would chat with the various residents, making a point to say hello to you when he noticed your presence which made you a little giddy. But you did also feel silly, you saw that he was quite friendly with everyone and you were by no means special.

That didn't stop your mind from wondering though, watching him as he moved through the room, still elegant despite the little instances of discomfort you kept noticing. His presence alone seemed to fill the space in a way that was hard to ignore. You even found yourself absentmindedly sketching him in your notebook one evening, which is when you realized - it was getting worse. Whatever was bothering him, was getting worse. Slowly, you became more convinced that he was in fact hiding an injury. But what was bothering you - was that nobody seemed to notice or care.