Phantom's Performance

Chapter 23

Alastor's Pov

The hallway outside Y/n's office was eerily quiet, save for the faint scratching of her pen against paper. It had been hours since she'd isolated herself, buried under a mountain of documents. The rest of the hotel's inhabitants had started to worry, and truth be told, so had I.

Pushing open the door, I was immediately struck by the cold, oppressive atmosphere. Y/n sat at her desk; her eyes glued to the never-ending stack of paperwork. The vibrant spark that usually danced in her eyes was now dimmed by exhaustion, and the sight of her pale face and dark circles under her eyes tugged at something deep within me.

"Y/n," I called softly, but she didn't respond. Frustration gnawed at me. I called again, louder this time, "Y/n."

Still nothing. My patience snapped, and with a flick of my wrist, I summoned the pen from her hand. Her head jerked up, eyes flashing with irritation, but her expression softened when she saw me.

"Alastor," she said, her voice a mix of surprise and weariness. "What can I do for you?"

I stepped closer, my eyes never leaving hers. "You need to take a break. You haven't eaten, and it's clear you're exhausted."

"I can't," she protested, glancing at the stack of papers. "I need to finish this for my father."

Setting my jaw, I felt my concern harden into resolve. "You can't take care of everyone else if you don't take care of yourself first."

Before she could argue, I snapped my fingers again, summoning a cannibal meal onto the desk. She tilted her head, looking at the food with a mix of confusion and resignation.

"Eat." I demanded, my tone leaving no room for debate.

She sighed, picking up the pen again instead of the fork. Frustration surged through me. "Y/n, this isn't negotiable. You need to eat."

"I can't right now, Alastor," she said, not looking up from the papers. "I have to finish this."

Her defiance struck a nerve. Moving quickly, I took her wrist firmly but gently. "Y/n, you're going to make yourself sick if you keep this up."

She tried to pull her hand away, but I held firm, moving to tower over her. "Eat," I repeated, my voice low and commanding.

She looked up at me, eyes wide with a mix of surprise and something else-fear? No, not fear. Respect. She cowered slightly, her defiance melting away. "Yes, Sir," she whispered.

Something inside me stirred at her submission, a thrill running down my spine. Releasing her wrist, I watched as she picked up the fork and began to eat. The sight of her obeying my command filled me with a sense of satisfaction that was almost intoxicating.

We sat in silence for a moment, the tension in the air slowly dissipating. As she ate, I pulled up a chair beside her and picked up one of the documents. My keen eyes scanned the text, and I started to help her with the paperwork.

"You've been working too hard," I said softly, my usual jovial tone tempered with concern. "You need balance. Let me help you with this. We can get through it together."

Y/n smiled, a look of gratitude warming her tired features. "Thank you, Alastor. I really appreciate it."

We worked side by side, her eating while I tackled the mountain of paperwork. The cold atmosphere began to lift, replaced by a sense of warmth and camaraderie. With my help, the daunting task before her seemed more manageable, and she looked more energized and determined.