Infernal Rivalry - The Clash Of Vox And Alastor

Chapter 24: Don't Stress

(Vox's POV)

As I walk the familiar path home, my thoughts drift back to Alastor, the enigmatic demon whose presence seems to weave its way into every corner of my mind. Despite the distractions of the day—the souls secured, the bruises earned—I can't shake the image of his bewildered expression upon waking, a stark contrast to the ease with which he navigates the chaos of Hell. Was the idea of waking up beside me truly so unsettling to him? The question gnaws at the edges of my consciousness, prompting a flurry of doubts and uncertainties. In his eyes, did our shared proximity signify something more than mere drunken camaraderie, or was it merely a momentary lapse in judgment, quickly dismissed upon regaining sobriety? I find myself lost in a labyrinth of conjecture, grappling with the implications of our intertwined fates. Is it possible that Alastor harbors feelings beyond the confines of our platonic camaraderie, or am I merely projecting my own desires onto a canvas devoid of substance? With each step homeward, the weight of uncertainty presses upon me, casting a shadow over the path ahead. As the familiar silhouette of our shared dwelling comes into view, I can't help but wonder what lies ahead.

As I step into the room, I immediately notice Alastor seated on the sofa, his perpetually cheerful expression muted by an uncharacteristic sadness. Sensing something amiss, I take a seat beside him, offering a supportive smile. "Hey, Alastor, everything alright?", I inquire, my concern evident in my tone. Alastor meets my gaze, his usual bright demeanor dimmed by a hint of melancholy. "Hey, Vox", he responds, his smile tighter than normal. "I'm okay... just got a few things on my mind." I nod, giving him space to open up if he wishes. "If you feel like talking about it, I'm here", I offer, placing a comforting hand on his shoulder. After a moment of hesitation, Alastor sighs, his voice tinged with vulnerability. "It's about last night", he begins, his words cautious. "I can't help but worry... about how you might see me differently now". Realisation dawns on me that his reaction wasn't out of disgust being next to me, it was out of embarrassment for himself. I recall the events that transpired in our drunken stupor. "Alastor, I assure you, I don't think any less of you", I reassure him earnestly, meeting his gaze with sincerity. "We all have our vulnerable moments, and last night was one for both of us". Alastor nods, but I can see the lingering unease in his eyes. "I understand, but... seeing me in that state, having to take care of me..." he trails off, his voice barely above a whisper. I place a comforting hand on his shoulder, offering reassurance. "Al, you have looked after me more times than I can count, it's really okay".

With his head buried in his hands, his voice muffled, he confesses his worry about the events of last night. He raises his head slightly, "You saw me... with most of my clothes off" his words muffled by his hands. Realising the source of his distress, I offer a reassuring smile, trying to ease his worries. "Alastor, it's okay" I reassure him. "You looked good, by the way. No need to be embarrassed". His cheeks flush slightly at my comment, and he shoots me a playful glare. "Hey, don't tease me" he chides lightly, though a hint of amusement lingers in his tone. I chuckle softly. "Sorry, couldn't resist," I admit, nudging him gently. "But seriously, there's nothing to worry about". "Yeah, I guess you're right" he concedes, his smile relaxing. With his worries somewhat alleviated, we sit together, the tension dissipating.

As we sit together, engaged in our conversation, my mind drifts back to last night, recalling the sight of Alastor in his vulnerable state. Despite his distress, there was a certain allure about him, a rawness that I couldn't help but find captivating. I remember how his features softened, his guard momentarily lowered, revealing a side of him that was rarely seen. A faint smile plays on my lips as I reflect on the memory, feeling a familiar fluttering sensation in my chest. It's a sensation I've grown accustomed to, yet one that never fails to catch me off guard—a subtle reminder of the deeper connection I share with Alastor. Lost in my thoughts, I'm brought back to the present by Alastor's voice, pulling me from my reverie. His words are light and teasing, his demeanor more relaxed now as we continue our conversation.