Well Aren't You A Charmer | Alastor x Reader

Chapter Twenty-Five

The atmosphere is heavy, the grief nearly palpable, as friends and family gather to pay their respects to Mrs. Hartfelt. At the front, there's the mahogany coffin, closed, with a sea of colorful flower arrangements surrounding it.

I squeeze Alastor's hand in mine for comfort and reassurance as he stares blankly ahead at the coffin. The ceremony just ended and everyone is saying their last goodbyes before heading out.

He holds my hand tightly, his grip perhaps a little too firm, but I don't complain. He keeps his gaze fixed on the coffin, his face a picture of stoic composure.

The sky is rapidly clouding over as everyone leaves, the once sunny day now a darkening grey. I shiver slightly, the cool breeze carrying the promise of a coming storm.

People come up to Alastor one by one, each offering their condolences. He nods silently at each, his face a mask of stoicism, hiding any emotions he may be feeling. It's a tough act to keep up, I can tell from the tightness in his shoulders and the clench of his jaw.

I lean into his side more as my other hand wraps around his arm. He subtly leans into my touch, his body seeking some comfort in my presence.

He keeps his head held high, maintaining his stoic facade even as more people offer their condolences. But I can feel the tension in his arm, the slight shake that betrays his true feelings.

My thumb rubs his arm in a comforting manner as more and more people begin to dismiss themselves. Theodore and the group of women from the book club are one the last people to remain.

Theodore approaches Alastor, his face somber with grief but still filled with a quiet strength. He pats Alastor on the shoulder, giving him a firm nod, before walking away.

The book club ladies approach soon after, their eyes red-rimmed and faces drawn. They offer their condolences to Alastor, the grief they feel apparent on their faces.

Some of them even try to hug him, their gestures a mix of sympathy and genuine sorrow. He stiffens slightly at the touch, clearly not accustomed to such overt displays of affection.

I mouth my thanks to each one, my heart heavy with grief but touched by their condolences. They nod at me in response, clearly feeling the weight of the situation as they slowly make their way out.

We stand there for a few more minutes before Alastor gives a nod to the workers. Our eyes fixated on the lowering of the casket into the ground. It's a slow, almost solemn process, the sound of the dirt being shoveled back over the freshly dug earth a stark reminder of the finality of the situation.

Alastor stands unmoving, his face betraying nothing of what he's feeling. My thumb continues to rub soothing circles against his arm as I rest my cheek against him. I can feel the tightness in his body, the tension that he's desperately trying to keep bottled up.

"It's just us. You don't have to bottle up your emotions." I say lowly with a gentle tone. He stiffens slightly at my words, as if caught off guard. For a moment, he says nothing, just clenches his jaw, his emotions warring within him.

Finally, he lets out a shuddering breath. "I don't know what to do," he confesses, his voice hoarse. "I've never been good at... handling these things."

"It's okay. No one's good at these things." A humorless chuckle escaped his lips, a dry, bitter sound. "I suppose not," he muses, his eyes still fixed on the fresh mound of earth.

"I just..." he trails off, his voice catching in his throat. "I just don't know how to... deal with this." I let out a small hum. "You'll never figure it out either. Eventually it will become easier but you'll have days where it feels unbearable."

I pause to take a breath. "But I'm here with you. I'll do everything I can to help." He lets out a heavy sigh, the weight of my words sinking in. "You're right," he admits, his voice a hoarse whisper.

"I thought I could just bury it deep down and pretend it doesn't bother me. But..." He swallows visibly, his Adam's apple bobbing in his throat. "It does. And it hurts more than I thought it would."

"I know. I know my love." I say as I glance up at him. He closes his eyes, a single tear rolling down his cheek. "I just don't know how to do this." He murmurs again, his voice filled with a mix of grief and frustration.

He brings a hand up to brush away the tear, a sudden burst of vulnerability showing through his usually impassive demeanor. I reach up to remove his glasses before wiping away his tears as well. "All you can do is take it one day at a time."

He lets out another shuddering breath, "One day at a time," he repeats, the words coming out like a mantra. He turns to look at me, the vulnerability in his gaze making my heart ache.

"Mhm. One day at a time." I repeat back before putting his glasses back on. He lets the words sink in, a flicker of determination replacing the grief in his eyes. "I can do that," he affirms, his voice a bit steadier.

"I know you can." I smile at him. He swallows visibly, seeming to draw strength from my smile. He returns a small, hesitant smile of his own, the first one I've seen from him since the grief took hold.

"With you by my side, I think I can." He says, his voice quiet but sure. "I love you." I murmur as they finish burying the casket. He turns to look at the finished burial, the mound of earth stark and grim against the grey background. I can hear him let out a shaky breath.

"I love you too," he responds, his voice barely above a whisper, filled with a mix of pain and love. He turns back to face me, the vulnerability still present in his eyes. "Ready to go home? We can stay longer if you want."

He pauses for a moment, seeming to weigh his options. "No," he finally says, his voice firm but gentle. "Let's go home." After one last look he begins to lead us towards his car.

He opens my door, the action almost automatic, and waits until I'm settled before closing it again. He then walks around the car and gets into the driver's seat. He's silent as he starts the car, the engine's hum the only sound in the suddenly quiet vehicle.

Looking out the window I see that the clouds are coming in fast. All I can hope for is that we get inside before it starts to pour. I look back towards Alastor and place my hand on his leg, rubbing small circles with my thumb.