Eternal Rot

Party Like The Angels

Lucifer had withdrawn after that night together, the letter was burnt to a crisp, and he seemed ever distant despite the eyes that remained on the human.

Alastor didn’t mind the peace, though the sudden withdrawal of affection was certainly noted. He wondered if he had done something wrong, or if Lucifer had simply lost interest. However, the devil still read his stories, and still found time to eat breakfast with the sinner and child.

As the days wore on, the distance grew, and like two mountain peaks, the men were separated by a great distance that was made of thin air. Alastor felt somewhat numb, as even Vince had busied himself with his new career as a television host, so he would oftentimes sit alone in his studio, speaking his mind about current events to the empty air. He even added a segment about love, telling short love stories that the other host had him read every weekend. She was a sucker for such things, and so they grew close thanks to the fact.

Her name was Rosie, and she reminded the man a lot of his mother. Said woman was off on a short trip herself, as their far off relatives had needed her north. So, Alastor by all definitions, had been all alone if not for Rosie. 

His time slot ended, and with a soft goodbye to his listeners; the mortal shut off his voice and put on transitional music for the folks at home. Sitting back, Al’s eyes closed, his fingers massaging the bridge of his nose as he shook a bit of a pressure headache. Once he felt a little better, he stood from his chair, making sure to tuck it back in neatly before he left. While walking out he made sure to greet Rosie, who was sitting in the lobby drinking her daily tea. She smiled up at him, a glamorous yet motherly grin bringing him a strange sort of comfort that he had been missing the past few days, so he returned the smirk, eyes half lidded and relaxed, “You’re on sweetheart.”

“Thanks, Al, I’ll be in soon. Are you running off to that lover of yours?” Rosie asked, not afraid to get into his business, as they gossiped amongst themselves quite often these days.

“No, I think I’ll take a walk.” Alastor replied, humming as he cutely tilted his head, “Might find myself a nice hole to bury myself in. Depends on how I’m feeling.”

“Ah, someone’s been in the studio too long!” Rosie tutted, giggling as she stood.

She was quite tall for a woman, as his eyes did not need to be downcast to look into hers', in fact, he found that on days like these he had to look up a bit, as he felt a little crooked, “Yes… well I better remedy that, h’m?”

“Have a wonderful day, dear. Don’t stress. He’ll come crawling back to you before you know it.” The woman winked at him before she strode right past, going to her own studio, flipping on the ‘On Air’ sign before she sat down within.

All alone again, that familiar bitterness grew.

The cool air hugged onto Alastor’s form, yet, he allowed his jacket to slide down his arms, and hang by his elbows so that the breeze could consume him. He hummed to himself, undoing his bowtie as he let the air onto the crook of his neck, the bite mark stinging still with the refreshing air. He let out a shaky breath, finding a nice tree, he sat beneath, making sure his jacket would be under him so as to not ruin the pants Lucifer had just bought him. 

He took a few deep breaths, eyes closed, tilting his head so that the mark could feel the full force of the winds. He shivered thanks to the sensation, fingers beginning to prod at the wound once again. It would never heal thanks to his fussing, but he didn’t care. He was too simply enamored by the pain it had caused.

Nearly drooling, the man let out a sharp breath, as he tried to regain his senses. Sure he was alone, but there was no reason to act so uncivilized in public. He bit his lip, buttoning his collar up so that he would be less tempted to touch, retying his bowtie so that the mark had padding once again.