As soon as Alana got to her room, she collapsed on the bed and just lay there. She didn't know whether she wanted to sleep or cry. Alois had survived the night. Claude had done something, she didn't know what, but he'd probably made some sort of deal with that Sebastian demon, and she was just having a hard time dealing with everything.
Be happy that they're both alive.
She should have been-she knew she should have been, but she just couldn't. She was too busy wallowing in self pity for everything else and that made her hate herself. After everything, now she was going to throw a fit over the unfairness of her entire life? How pathetic…
"Alana?"
Claude's voice snapped her back into reality. There were tears streaming down her cheeks. She'd never cried without knowing it before. It was shameful. She quickly wiped her eyes and cleared her throat, hoping that he wouldn't be able to tell with her back turned to him. But no matter how much she wiped her face, the tears kept falling. She couldn't control it anymore.
"Yes?" her voice broke.
"What's wrong? Why are you crying?" Claude asked with concern and she heard his footsteps coming farther into the room.
"Nothing's wrong, I'm fine," she bit out, angry with herself for being so weak.
"No, you're not," he said with decisiveness and pulled her so that she was facing him.
She couldn't meet his eyes and instead stared at the bed post as he settled down beside her on the mattress.
"Tell me. You were alright a few hours ago when I fixed your hair but then when Alois and I found you in the hallway…something had changed. What was it?"
She didn't want to tell him. How could she? She didn't want him to view her as weak. Alana didn't him to regard her the same way he did Alois: weak, immature, indecisive and unpredictable. But who else could she tell? If she didn't say something to someone she was going to self-destruct. She loved him and trusted him, who better to tell?
So she told him. She told him everything and it made her feel terrible and then she told him that too. By the time she was finished, it was nearly midnight and she'd cried more than she had in her entire life. She'd refused to let him hold her because she'd wanted to see his face, she wanted to know his reaction before he could hide it.
"Alana," he stopped and sighed and she felt her heart sink, "I wasn't planning on explaining this to you until later, however…now I understand I should not have procrastinated."
Her brows drew together in confusion as she looked up at him with her lovely green eyes. Claude had always been able to see the pain she kept hidden from everyone, even herself. He'd seen it when she talked about the experiments or her mother. He'd known this would happen eventually, he was stupid for not realizing that she was finally breaking down earlier. He felt disgusting for just leaving her in her room for the hour it had taken to get the party wrapped up.
"You see," he began and then stopped, "do you remember when we spoke of falling in love? It was when you first found out I was a demon."
She nodded, her confusion not clearing.
"Yes, you said that demons can mate with each other. You also said…that demons choose not to feel emotion because falling in love is impractical…you didn't tell me much else."
A few more tears slipped down her cheeks that he swiftly wiped away. It weighed on him to see her crying, and because of him, no less. He felt like the lowest creature imaginable.
"Yes, well. Demons, when we choose our…soul mate-for lack of a better term, it's eternal. That's the reason falling in love-especially with a human-is so impractical, because once we do, that is our partner for the rest of our immortal lives."
He could tell by her expression that she was still confused. She didn't understand exactly what he was saying and then he realized why: he hadn't actually told her he loved her. It was implied, but he'd never said it outright and that was part of the reason why she was in such turmoil now.
"Alana, I love you."
He'd said it. He'd actually said it. It took a moment to register in her mind, and then her eyes got very big and she just stared at him.
"You…"
"I love you," he confirmed patiently.
Alana was struggling with her reaction. She wanted to throw herself into his arms but at the same time she wanted to cry like a baby again. So…she opted for both. He continued speaking as he wrapped his arms around her.
"So even once I've taken Alois's soul, I'll still love you. There's no going back now, not for me."
She laughed a little and wiped at her face, feeling herself finally calming down.
"I love you too," she said, smiling at him gently.
He pulled her back into his arms and they just sat there for an immeasurable amount of time. They only roused when she yawned widely and rubbed her eyes.
"You should get some rest. You've had a long, stressful day," Claude said and began helping her out of her costume from the party.
They were content in the silence while she tugged a slip over her head and began pulling at the fake teeth.
"By the way," Claude said suddenly, "I feel it is worth mentioning that I very much enjoyed all of your costume."
She grinned at him widely.
"Thank you, very much," she giggled climbing onto the bed.
He joined her like he always did, letting her curl up against his chest.
"How in the world are we going to make this work?" she wondered aloud.
"Well that's easy," he answered casually; "we'll just turn you into a demon."
She looked up at him in surprise.
"Are you serious?" she asked.
"Of course," he answered matter-of-factly, "turning you into a demon would be very practical. It's the best possible option."
She was quiet, thinking. What would be the downsides to being a demon? She'd have to eat souls, but she figured she could find herself some worthy targets. Then there was the whole 'living forever' business, but that didn't seem terrible either. She wondered how much the world would change if she got to watch its progress. Plus, she got to spend that time with Claude. Hell? Well…she'd cross that bridge when she came to it. She was a demon, not a soul going into the pit, so she doubted it would as bad for her as it was for them.
"Alright," she said at last, "what do I have to do?"
He chuckled and held her tighter.
"All you have to do at the moment is get some rest. It is late and you are tired."
She looked back at him and smiled a little, pressing her lips to hers and sighing with content at just how good it felt.
"Goodnight, Claude."
"Goodnight, Alana."
Alana woke later in the night, still cradled in Claude's arms. It took her a moment to realize why, until she noticed Alois standing by the bed. She glanced back at Claude. His eyes were closed, his face settled close to her head on the pillow. Alana turned back to Alois slowly, not wanting to wake Claude.
"Alois?" she asked quietly, "What is it? Why didn't you call Claude?"
"I did," he answered flatly, turning to look at the demon darkly.
Her eyebrows drew together as she slowly sat up, careful not to jostle her companion into waking.
"What did you need?" she inquired.
"I wanted a glass of warm milk because I was having trouble getting to sleep," he told her, rubbing his eyes and sounding very childlike.
"Alright," she murmured, slipping from under the sheets and Claude's arm to stand beside the young master, "I'll go make you some."
"I want to come with you," he stated in a superior tone.
She looked at him questioningly but nodded.
"Sure," she agreed, "let's go."
Alois started out the door first and Alana glanced back at the bed to see Claude's eyes open. He was giving her a look that she read easily: 'should I get up for this?' Alana gave him a small, almost imperceptible shake of the head before she turned and followed Alois down the hallway.
In the kitchen, she began heating up the milk in a tea kettle, leaning against the counter tiredly. Alois stared at her wide eyed, fully awake. She had a strong feeling that Alois hadn't even made an effort to sleep that night. He'd probably stayed up plotting against the Earl Phantomhive boy. She sighed. Why was it that all the important people in her life were busy plotting all the time?
"Alana, do you love Claude?" he asked suddenly.
She looked at him startled, but then settled back against the counter.
"Yes," she answered wearily, "yes, I do."
He grinned viciously.
"And he loves you?"
"That's what he's told me."
He was quiet, clearly thinking about something as she poured the now warm milk into a glass for him.
"Thank you," he said, before heading for the door to the kitchen, "goodnight, Alana."
She just stood there after him, staring at the doorway. He was planning something and whatever it was wasn't going to be good. Shaking her head, she trudged back to her room and collapsed onto the bed next to Claude.
"He's plotting again," she groaned, nuzzling against his neck.
"Don't worry, Alana," Claude assured her, "he won't come between us. This, I promise you."