Lovers Once More - Radiostatic

Regret

Vox blinked against the dim light filtering through the curtains, his head pounding like a bass-heavy remix of Hell's worst club hits. He squinted, trying to get his bearings, only to realize he was lying in an unfamiliar bed. As his vision focused, the memories of the night before began piecing themselves together like a malfunctioning reel: the fight with Val, the barrage of drinks, the argument with Velvette, and... the confession.

"Oh no," he muttered, dread flooding him as he rubbed his aching head. "Oh, *fuck.*"

He groaned, feeling a flush of humiliation creeping up his neck. *Did I really tell Alastor I missed him? That I... still love him?* His screen glitched slightly in his panic, little pops of static crackling across his face.

Meanwhile, Alastor had been walking down the hall, a towel slung over his shoulder on his way to the bathroom, when he heard a low stream of curses coming from Vox's room. Pausing mid-step, he tilted his head, a sly grin forming as he caught snippets of Vox's self-recrimination.

"Ah, awake already, are we?" he drawled, leaning casually against the doorframe as he peered inside. "And here I thought you'd sleep through the entire day after last night's... adventures."

Vox froze at the sound of Alastor's voice, his screen flickering between different shades of red as his eyes widened in horror. "Oh, uh... Alastor." He cleared his throat, trying to muster some semblance of dignity despite the unmistakable hangover haze. "How... long have you been standing there?"

"Long enough to enjoy your little morning monologue," Alastor replied with a smirk, clearly relishing every moment of Vox's discomfort. "Though I must say, the view was worth it."

Vox grimaced, closing his eyes for a brief moment as he tried to ignore the pounding in his head. "Look, whatever I said last night... Just forget it, alright? I was... completely blitzed. Didn't know what I was saying."

"Oh, I'm *quite* aware," Alastor replied, his tone deceptively light as he folded his arms and gave Vox an appraising look. "But the funny thing about intoxication, my dear Vox, is that it tends to reveal truths one would otherwise keep hidden. So... which part am I supposed to forget, exactly?"

Vox's face glitched again, his screen flickering as he struggled to think of a response. He looked away, running a hand over his screen in frustration. "All of it," he mumbled, his voice uncharacteristically quiet. "Just... forget all of it."

Alastor took a few steps into the room, the faintest glimmer of amusement in his eyes as he crossed his arms. "Now, that wouldn't be very honest of me, would it? You did pour your heart out, in a rather dramatic display, I must say." He chuckled softly, his voice laced with amusement but tempered with a strange softness. "I wouldn't dream of brushing that aside so easily."

Vox groaned, burying his face in his hands. "I knew this would come back to haunt me," he muttered. "Look, Alastor, I... I was just drunk. That's all. And besides, it's not like it matters."

Alastor's smile softened, though his eyes held a flicker of something deeper. "Doesn't it?" he asked quietly, his usual teasing tone replaced with a rare hint of sincerity. "It seemed to matter quite a bit last night."

Vox's screen dimmed, his bravado crumbling as he looked up at Alastor, unable to find his usual sarcastic retort. "I... don't know what you want me to say, Al. It's not like I can take it back, but I can at least ask you not to make a big deal out of it."

Alastor chuckled softly, reaching out to give Vox's shoulder a gentle pat. "Very well, I'll spare you any further torment... for now." His grin widened, the familiar mischief returning to his expression. "But if there's one thing I won't forget, it's the look on your face when you realized you still loved me. That was priceless."

With that, he turned, heading back toward the door. "If you need me, I'll be downstairs with a fresh cup of coffee. I suspect you'll be needing something much stronger, though." He threw a wink over his shoulder, leaving Vox to stew in a mixture of regret, embarrassment, and... something else he didn't quite have the courage to admit.

As Alastor's footsteps faded down the hall, Vox flopped back onto the bed, one arm draped over his face as he muttered to himself, "Why did it have to be him?"