Priceless (Alastor X Reader)

Embers

(CONTENT ADVISORY⚠️: TW, uncomfortable and triggering situations such as implied physical and sexual abuse. PROCEED WITH CAUTION, YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED.)

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Alastor's POV:

'I always hated that cold, sterile color scheme here.' I thought rather bitterly. Grey, white, and blue walls... Little to no decorations or personal touches. Less to dust, I suppose, but it doesn't feel like a home. Not exactly 'lived in'.

I wandered through the empty manor with nothing but my thoughts and the sound of my footsteps to accompany me. Not sure why I was here or for how long, but paying my curiosities little mind as I continued onward. Music was playing, oddly enough, that never got louder -or quieter- no matter what room I was in. Seemingly unable to find the source of the melodies throughout my journey.

It seemed as though the whole place was empty.

But as I ascended the small, spiral staircase in the den- I started to tune in on the faintest sound of footsteps foreign from my own. Soft, quietly but quickly tip-toeing from one end of the second floor to another.

I paused, curious as to where they may be headed, and as to whom I shared company with in this place. My brow furrowed, and I waited and listened.

Little by little, the shuffled footsteps grew louder. I wondered if I might be able to sneak around and catch up to whoever was lurking around. And so, I carried on.

Purposefully timing my stride to move in sync with the other person, as to not raise any alarm that may cause them to run and hide. Inching closer and straining to listen, pausing my walk every so often to ensure that I was in fact nearing closer. Down the corridor and around the corner I walked, but stopped abruptly when I accidentally bumped into -whom I assume to be- the very stranger I sought after.

She was battered, no doubt broken, and looked very very familiar.

Her right eye was bloodshot in the inner corner, accompanied by a healing bruise along the eye socket. Her skin, revealed by rather scarce, blood-stained clothing, was spared no mercy; as she seemed to be decorated with cigar burns and several lacerations. Some more bruises as well. She looked gaunt, almost malnourished. And a little sleep deprived.

But she was still the most beautiful thing I've ever seen. Comparable to raindrops on a rose, or even the stars above.

I had seen abuse before, and I had smiled in the faces of misery without mercy... But everything within my very being wanted to take her away from whatever caused her suffering.

I felt something strange, an ache in my chest that weighed heavy as an anvil. And I had not a clue why.

Startled, she took a step back and stared up at me with wide, fear-ridden eyes.

I took a step closer, and she took another step back.

"Are you alright?" I asked her. Certain that she truly wasn't, but, perhaps I could be of some help to her.

The belle pressed her index finger to her lips in a 'hush' gesture. Her eyes darted off to the left and the right before looking back at me.

"Hide me..." she whispered. "Please?"

"Hide you? From who?"

"Please??" She asked again. Still in a whisper, but frantic in her tone. Whomever she was trying to stay hidden from she was certainly desperate about it.

"I..." I stammered. A bit confused, especially since this wasn't my home and I hadn't the first clue as to where to hide a person here. But I knew I had to try and get her somewhere safe.