cupid clearly hates me.

[ 16 ]

Before you read the chapter: I would like to mention Gouenji-Rym10 and show you a bit of their artwork. I mean, look at that shit. IT IS TRUE BEAUTY—

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☆ Second Person POV, past tense

You didn't act surprised.

You felt surprised, there was no doubt about that. Alastor was a hitman—or in better words, a licensed murderer—which was a shock in of itself. What only added to your feeling of astonishment was that he hadn't told you about it thus far.

But instead of showing how surprised you were, you simply cleared your throat, ran your fingers through the roots of your hair and stared down at your feet. "Okay," you said, but your voice was hushed and not at all as firm as you wanted it to be. So you tried again, forcing solidity into your tone, "Okay, that's fine."

"That's it?"

You raised your head to meet Alastor's baffled gaze. The expression he was wearing was not one you had seen on his face before. "Yeah, that's it." You sounded cool, like everything was a-okay and hunky-dory, but on the inside your stomach was twisting. "What, did you expect me to freak out?"

Alastor disregarded your defensive tone with a flashy grin, changing the mood of the air in one quick second. "No, not at all. In fact, I'm quite happy you didn't freak out! We might have had some serious problems if you did."

You frowned. "What do you mean, serious problems?"

"Never mind that," Alastor rushed, casting the topic aside as if it were a secret left to be untold. He folded his hands together before his torso—almost as if he were growing impatient—and absentmindedly tapped his right thumb against his left hand. "Will you be alright staying here at the house for a little while? I hate to leave you now, but I go take care of some, you know, things."

"I want to come with you."

Alastor's thumb ceased its tapping. His back straightened; something had fallen over his face that made his smile weaken. "You do?"

"Yeah. I mean, it can't be that bad, right?" You forced yourself to be nonchalant. It wasn't that you were totally fine with the idea of him being a hitman, but... it was Alastor. What were you going to do, hate him for it? You already knew that he was a serial killer in his past. What did it matter if his murdering habit never fell away? "I'm obviously against the murdering-the-innocent thing, but you aren't killing innocent people, right?"

Alastor sighed and hesitated for a suspiciously long moment before shaking his head.  "Not usually, no. But it does still involve murder, and, well, murder is murder..."

He paused to let his words sink in as you stared up at his bright eyes. You remembered what you had thought when you looked into those very same eyes last night—you were falling in love. He had held you, comforted you, made you feel like you were cared for. He had given you the sense of safety and security that you needed at an emotionally-withering time like this.

You were so busy obsessing over how Alastor had treated you last night that you didn't notice how close he had come to you.

"My love?"

Your mind was yanked back into reality with a sudden jolt. His ever-present smile was right there before you and he was focused solely on your bright purple eyes, like he was seeing you and only you and nothing else. Your heart skipped a beat and a feeling came over you—a nervous, stomach-clenching feeling similar to the one that coursed through you when you first kissed Alastor in the woods. It was a pleasant discomfort that twisted your insides like they were wet washcloths that needed to be dried.