cupid clearly hates me.

[ 33 ] + author's note ;)

[ Hey lovely readers! How are ya'll?
I just wanted to let you all know that I definitely won't be uploading as much as much as usual (even though I barely update as is lol) because my junior year starts tomorrow, and I have work and pom taking up all of my freetime. I hope I can still get some chapters out, and I hope you guys can still enjoy reading! ]

☆ Second person POV, past tense

"After I died, my bloodlust was only heightened."

You and Alastor were now sitting down in the grass, surrounded by trees and foggy red skylight. Sharp coos from the crows above head echoed through the spacious forest. Alastor was leaning up against a tree trunk while you had your head tilted against his shoulder quite comfortably. Your left arm and his right were curled together like strings in a rope of Twizzlers, and each time you shifted, he shifted too, just to keep the distance between the two of your bodies as small as possible.

"Why?"

"Probably because of the redness everywhere," Alastor continued, looking up to the sky in thought. "That dark part of me learned to associate the color red with murder, since blood is red."

You picked a strand of grass out of the dirt with your right hand, twirling the dewy blade between your fingers. Distracting yourself from the slightly sickening words that Alastor was saying, you stared at the tiny plant.

Meanwhile, Alastor continued telling his story. "Near the end of one of my murderous streaks, I decided to target a powerful demon, just to challenge myself. He had the ability to make any human, demon, or angel go blind with the touch of his hand. I succeeded in killing him, and soon after, I gained the abilities that he had," he recalled, a terrifyingly happy lilt in his tone. "I discovered my new found powers upon meeting up with an old friend. After I shook his hand, his eyes went grey, and, well... you know the rest—"

"Wait, pause the story."

Alastor glanced your way. A lock of hair fell between his eyes. "What is it, doll?"

"I'm touching you right now, but I'm not blind. How does that work?"

"Well, I learned to control my powers, of course!" he said exuberantly. "Now, most of them work on command, with either the snap of my fingers or just a simple touch."

You frowned, looking down at your little blade of grass again. A tense, weary feeling materialized within your stomach. It was a familiar.

Anxiety.

Anxiety, unease, agitation, distrust.

The unpleasant feeling you get when someone who you are very close to tells you something that just doesn't sit right.

Mental puzzle pieces were forming in your mind, slowly coming together to reveal the masterpiece that was Alastor's backstory. If he obtained the powers of that demon after killing them, then he must have killed a whole lot of powerful demons to get where he was now.

"Did you get Lucifer's powers?" you wondered with a timid voice.

"I did indeed."

You took a deep breath. He was a lot more powerful than you thought.

A thin silence came between the two of you—made comfortable by the ambient sounds of the woods and the distant honking of car horns in the city. You let your mind slip into thought.

Why did I fall in love with someone as fucked up as this?

You blinked a couple of times and tried to ignore the thought, but ignoring things in your head only made you wonder about them more. Like a rubber ducky in a bath, the little thought kept bobbing back up, no matter how hard you tried to push it underneath the surface.