Alastor x Reader

The Seamstress

February 4, 1924
6:00 am
(Y/N's) POV

I gently raised my head off of my pillow and rose from the bed. I threw the warm covers of my bed off of my body before sluggishly making my way to the bathroom. After I got washed up, I made my way downstairs to open up my shop for the day.

7:30 am

A young gentleman, whom I scheduled an 8:00 AM fitting for, arrived early. Upon inquiring about his early arrival, he replied that he had a date with a lovely, blonde flapper that had slipped his mind. After he tried on his jacket, he paid me in full and a gifted me with a generous tip. Since that only happens rarely, I was extremely pleased. He gave a polite goodbye and I found myself within my empty shop again.

12:30 pm

While working on an order for a customer of noble status, I started singing a French song that my mother taught me.

Ô ma douce souffrance
Pourquoi s'acharner tu recommences
Je ne suis qu'un être sans importance
Sans lui je suis un peu paro'
Je déambule seule dans le métro
Une dernière danse
Pour oublier me peine immense
Je veux m'enfuir que tout recommence
Oh ma douce souffrance

Je remue le ciel, le jour, la nuit
Je danse avec le vent, la pluie
Un peu d'amour, un brin de miel
Et je danse, danse, danse, danse, danse, danse, danse
Et dan le bruit, je cours et j'ai peur
Est-ce mon tour?
Revient la douleur
Dans tout Paris, je m'abandonne
Et je m'envole, vole, vole, vole, vole, vole, vole, vole, vole

Que d'espérance
Sur ce chemin en ton absense
J'ai beau trimer, sans toi ma vie n'est qu'un décor qui brille, vide de sans

Je remue le ciel, le jour, la nuit
Je danse avec le vent, la pluie
Un peu d'amour, un brin de miel
Et je danse, danse, danse, danse, danse, danse, danse
Et dan le bruit, je cours et j'ai peur
Est-ce mon tour?
Revient la douleur
Dans tout Paris, je m'abandonne
Et je m'envole, vole, vole, vole, vole, vole, vole, vole, vole

Dans cette douce souffrance
Dont j'ai payé toutes les offenses
Écoute comme mon cœur est immense
Je suis une enfant du monde

Je remue le ciel, la jour, la nuit
Je danse avec le vent, la pluie
Un peu d'amour, un brin de miel
Et je danse, danse, danse, danse, danse, danse, danse
Et dan le bruit, je cours et j'ai peur
Est-ce mon tour?
Revient la douleur
Dans tout Paris, je m'abandonne
Et je m'envole, vole, vole, vole, vole, vole, vole, vole, vole

Once I uttered the final note, the sound of applause filled my ear from behind me. I nearly jumped out of my skin at the new knowledge of having an invisible audience. "I don't think I've ever heard singing quite like that in my life! Correct me if I'm wrong, but was that French?" my lone audience member asked. I placed my hand over my chest to steady my breathing.

The tall, thin man had whiskey brown hair that matched the consistency of a soft, fine fur coat. His dark, mysterious eyes had a crimson tint to them. His smile stretched from ear to ear as if he had heard the funniest thing in the world. I straightened my posture after examining his strange, yet familiar, features.

"What can I help you with today, sir?" I asked him. He took off his long-tailed coat and showed me the hole that had been made in it. "I was out hunting one night and I got into a bit of an accident. Do you think you could fix this for me?" I gently took the coat out of his slender hands and carefully examined the tear in the delicate fabric. "I can fix this easily," I said. "You can come pick this up tomorrow morning or whenever you're ready."

Upon closer examination of his face, I realized why he looked so familiar. "I think I know you." He tilted his head at me in response to my comment. "Aren't you Alastor? The radio host?" The lanky man, somehow, smiled even wider and nodded his head.

"Yes indeedy! And what might your name be, madam?"

"My name is (Y/N) (L/N), sir."

He gracefully took my hand and kissed my knuckles. I felt my cheeks become hot with a sudden blush; I hoped it was inconspicuous. After a brief conversation concerning the type of fabric I'd be working with, we both said our goodbyes and I closed up my shop for the evening.

5:30 pm

I sat in a chair, needle and thread prepared, with Alastor's jacket spread out onto the table before me. The jacket needed two different shades of red fabric which I could work with. I took a closer look at the tear in this crimson overcoat. It didn't look like an animal made this tear. It looked like it was from a fight. It was the sort of jagged tear that only a knife could make.

I shook the impossible theory out of my head and began repairing the coat.

February 5th, 1924
2:00 am

I finally finished the coat. It looks brand new. Well, it almost looks brand new.

I changed into my nightgown, took down my messy hair, and sleepily crawled into my comfy bed.

The subject of my final thoughts was Alastor.

I'm excited to see him again tomorrow.