Infernal Rivalry - The Clash Of Vox And Alastor

Chapter 43: Seeking Comfort

(Vox's POV)

As I sprinted through the dimly lit streets, my breath came in ragged gasps, each inhalation burning in my lungs as if I were breathing fire. The pounding of my footsteps echoed in my ears, a relentless drumbeat driving me forward with a sense of urgency that bordered on desperation. The events of the evening replayed in my mind like a cruel mantra, each memory a dagger to the heart, tearing at the fragile threads of hope that still clung to me. The rejection, the anger, the hurt—all of it weighed heavily on my shoulders, threatening to crush me beneath its weight. I tried to push the thoughts aside, to focus on the task at hand, but they refused to be silenced. The image of Alastor's face twisted in anger haunted me, his words echoing in my mind like a relentless chorus of accusation and blame. With each step, I felt the tendrils of doubt and self-loathing creeping in, wrapping around me like a suffocating shroud. Was it my fault? Had I pushed him too far? Did he truly hate me as much as he seemed to? As I finally reached Valentino's studio, my chest heaving with exertion, I was greeted by the sight of his door looming before me like a beacon of refuge in the darkness. With trembling hands, I raised my fist and rapped against the wood, each knock a desperate plea for sanctuary from the storm raging within me.

Valentino opens the door, his expression shifted from surprise to concern as he took in my disheveled appearance and the raw emotion etched into every line of my face. His shock quickly gave way to a genuine sense of worry, mirrored in the furrow of his brow and the softening of his features. "Vox? What happened?" he asked, his voice laced with genuine concern as he stepped back to allow me entry into his studio. "You look like you've been through hell". I hesitated for a moment, the weight of everything that had transpired weighing heavily on my shoulders. How could I even begin to explain the tangled mess of emotions that churned within me, the hurt and confusion that threatened to consume me whole? "It's... it's a long story" I finally managed to choke out, my voice hoarse with the strain of suppressed emotion. "But I... I needed to get out of there. I needed... I needed to be somewhere else". His gaze softened, his eyes filled with understanding as he placed a comforting hand on my shoulder. "Well, you're here now" he said gently, guiding me further into the studio, "And you're safe".

Valentino guided me to his bedroom with a gentle hand on my shoulder, leading me to a seat as we entered. The room felt strangely comforting, enveloping me in a cocoon of familiarity amidst the chaos swirling in my mind. As we settled in, his concern only seemed to deepen, his eyes searching mine for answers. "What happened, Vox?" he asked softly, his voice a soothing balm against the turmoil brewing within me. I hesitated for a moment, the weight of the words I needed to speak pressing down on me like a leaden weight. How could I possibly articulate the tangled mess of emotions that had led me here, seeking solace in the company of the one person who seemed to understand me best? Finally, I met Valentino's gaze, my voice trembling slightly as I began to recount the events that had unfolded between Alastor and me. The words spilled out in a torrent, each syllable laden with the weight of the emotions I had been struggling to contain. "It's Alastor" I began, my voice barely above a whisper. "We... we had a fight. I don't even know where to begin...". As I spoke, Valentino listened intently, his expression a mixture of empathy and concern.

I poured out the details of the confrontation with Alastor, my words tumbling out in a rush as I recounted the events that had transpired. "I told him... I told him I love him" I confessed, the weight of those words heavy on my tongue. "And he didn't know what to think... I thought... I thought he must love me too, because of the kiss...". Valentino listened intently, his expression a mixture of sympathy and understanding. "Go on" he urged gently, his voice a calming presence in the midst of my turmoil. "And then... then I mentioned your cigarette," I continued, my voice faltering slightly. "He thought it was just the alcohol, but... but I told him it was like a drug, that it showed my true intentions... and everything just spiraled out of control from there".  I paused, the memory of the confrontation still fresh in my mind, the hurt and confusion etched into Alastor's face haunting me like a ghost.