Walking home with the Radio Demon felt like holding a loaded gun.

Alastor had waited for her outside the locked cafe doors after Cyrus had gotten the other guests to leave, standing with his back to the windows as he rocked on his heels. Clover fought with Cyrus to at least let her get the bar area clean again after her debacle, feeling slightly guilty for throwing coffee and milk across his cafe when she'd been there barely a week. She made herself a tea before she left, something to calm her nerves and busy her hands as they walked back to the Happy Hotel. It was an anxiety inducing experience, that was for sure, as much as she enjoyed Alastor as a person he still made her incredibly nervous on occasion.

It was becoming more and more apparent to her that she was developing a curious infatuation with him, as much as she cursed herself for it.

Having a quickly sparking crush on someone in new situations or in times of trauma wasn't something new for her, she'd done it her entire life, and it was something that she'd had to work with in order to find herself in her young adult years. She'd meet someone she found interesting, she'd get confusing feelings about them that she would read as romantic while in the thrall of exploration, she'd figure out that the idea of them being romantically involved with her made her skin crawl, and they'd end up as friends. She expected the same out of this, or to have her curiosity sated enough that they would stop interacting entirely and fade into non-existence for each other.

But, for now, she was completely entertained by him.

As soon as the bell rang announcing her arrival, he turned to her, now holding his microphone as one would a cane and smiling pleasantly. The street around him was empty, the only other inhabitants on the far side of the road and walking quickly in the opposite direction. Hell's sun was a deep red and sinking lower below the horizon with every passing moment, casting twisting shadows around them and tinting the already red city pink. The red sweater that had become her trademark gave ample protection from the soft chill of the night air that would have seeped through the torn sleeve of her shirt. She didn't think twice about how similar the shade was to Alastor's coat. He'd given the cane a twirl as he greeted her, and regarded her changed attire and the drink she was holding with a small raise of his brow before falling into step beside her.

Clover didn't know what to say, and so, they'd been silent for the last two blocks aside from the chipper music Alastor played.

Finally, it seemed he'd had enough of it.

"Well, that surely was exciting!"

The sudden boisterous voice caused her to jump slightly, fumbling over her own feet before she fell into step with him again and rejoined the budding conversation.

"Never a dull day in hell, huh?"

"I will not continue to speak about it if it bothers you, but I do wish to say that I am sorry I did not intervene sooner. I-"

"Don't take kindly to those who prey on us of fairer means?"

Alastor fumbled now, stopping dead in his tracks on the sidewalk. It took a couple of seconds for Clover to realize he was no longer at her side, stumbling off the curb before stepping back towards him hesitantly. Alastor blinked for a moment, tilting his head at her as that smile grew wider as he looked at her.

"You heard my broadcast."

"What gave it away?"

He laughed, the sound causing her heart to leap into her throat as he moved to walk beside her once again. This time, he held out an arm to her after stepping down off the steep curb. Clover felt her raw nerves protest, as alright as she felt about conversation regarding what had happened in the coffee shop, she could feel the ache of overstimulation clawing at her already temperamental feelings about her personal space.

Trauma was a bitch.

She took it anyway, placing her hand against his elbow for balance and letting him walk her across the street, before shuffling with her cup and letting go. Alastor turned to look at her, his arm hovering between them for a few seconds before it dropped to his side. The silence that followed ate at her nerves, the switching static of the melody he played causing her ears to twitch in anticipation of nothing at all. Finally she broke, taking a long sip of her tea before she spoke.

"I'm so- I didn't mean to offend you."

"None taken, I can assure you."

"I just, sometimes touching people is hard for me, especially after something as overwhelming as what happened."

"I understand, I myself don't favor being touched by those I do not know well, or when it is not in my control. I was only concerned that you had lied to me."

Clover turned to look up at him, the confusion written clearly on her face, and Alastor continued to smile as he tilted towards her and clarified.

"You said you weren't afraid of me."

"I'm not."

She said it so quickly, she worried it came off as being short with him, which was neither a good idea nor something she intended to do. Clearing her throat, she tried again.

"I'm not afraid of you, I respect you, and as you've so gently pointed out before, I'm curious about you."

"I see."

He fell silent again, aside from the soft humming that accompanied the constant soundtrack to his afterlife. Clover vaguely recognized the song, but she was too distracted by the casual air of the entire situation and the soft timbre of Alastor's vocal accompaniment to remember it. The longer she listened, the more her fondness for the demon grew in her chest, spreading a heavy heat across her collar and down to her fingertips. Walking was an easy distraction from looking at him, but the combination of his radio static and humming was too endearing to endure.

She had to keep him talking.

"Despite the, well, weight of the topics you talk about, you're very good at what you do."

"I suppose you're referring to my broadcast."

"I am, it was… entertaining, to say the least."

"The very least! The macabre is not to everyone's tastes, I am well aware. But! Flattery will get you everywhere, cher."

She really hoped the Radio Demon's broadcasting abilities didn't extend to listening, feeling her head spin slightly as the blood rushed through her ears as her heart attempted to become one with her small intestine. Clover was beginning to get very irritated with her own romantic tendencies. Underneath the wild flutter that came with the term of endearment falling so easily from between sharp teeth, his comments stirred the other nagging emotion she had towards him;

Curiosity.

So, she kept him talking.

"Your morals aren't as deranged as others paint them to be, which seems to be no small feat down here. I stand by my decision to not take the fairytales to heart before getting to know you."

"Hm, don't let Vagatha hear you say that, you'll be locked in that hotel room until you've come to your senses."

Clover laughed, looking up from her shuffling feet to see the tall neon sign of her new home in the distance. The walk felt so much shorter when there was someone to entertain along the way. Alastor didn't seem to care, smiling to himself as they waited for a group of motorcycles to speed past. It wasn't hard to notice the small step forward he took, placing himself slightly between her and the oncoming traffic before stepping down and turning to her. She wondered whether he would offer his arm again, his manner seemed as tied to him as a person as his aesthetics, but he only watched as she stepped down beside him and allowed her to continue to lead the way. Alastor quickly began talking again.

"A 'fairytale' is an interesting choice of words for someone such as myself, you're a peculiar woman, even as modern ones go."

"You're not the boogeyman, Al."

She felt herself freeze, afraid of overstepping her boundaries with him when the common nick-name used by everyone else in the hotel fell from her lips. When he only continued on, switching his radio to a more mellow tune with a fizzle of static, she relaxed once again and sped up again to keep up with him. Alastor hadn't stopped talking, seeming more emboldened by their humorous turn of conversation than concerned with her possibly-too-casual slip of the tongue.

"Perhaps not, but I am surely no prince."

Alastor playing along only fueled her own humor, causing Clover to take pause under the awning to the hotel front door to turn towards him with a twist of her feet. He raised a brow at her, but made no move to leave her at the door or usher her inside, so she kept on with their game.

"Maybe not a prince in the classic sense no, but those are often boring or have no name at all-or! they're as equally awful people as the villains in the classic tales. You could be… a specifically wicked witch? A shadow man seems too on the nose, but maybe a twisted Robin Hood, or a mad king."

"Luck willing."

The playful grin that crossed his face was too charming to be legal, even in Hell, but she still felt herself rolling her eyes at him. He was a rascal under all the theater, and a horrid flirt at that, and it made her infatuation with him grow worse with every second she spent in his overwhelming presence. Clover only hoped that her assumptions about him were correct, and not her falling for his facade. Finding the door handle behind her, she pressed her weight into it until it clicked, but hesitated when Alastor didn't move to disappear into the shadowed streets. Their conversation wasn't over yet.

"Are you staying, or out for more business?"

"Well, as I did say earlier, I do have some things to attend to."

"Oh, I'm sorry I-"

"You did not delay me, time waits for some things."

Clover was surely blushing, quickly leaning back into the door in an attempt to hide in the shadows of the backlit stained glass before he noticed. She stopped herself before the motion became overly rude, clearing her throat of the squeak that threatened to betray her.

"I will see you around then, hopefully before the hotel collapses."

"Of course! And perhaps by then you will figure out what my role in that 'fairy tale' is!"

They stood in silence for a moment, something that was becoming far too frequent for her liking, and she realized that he was waiting for her to step inside and close the door before leaving.

He was an odd gentleman, really.

Clover moved to step inside, feeling reluctance in the shift of her weight but ignoring it as she moved into the soft light of the lobby. She was struck with a notion, as she so often was when around him, that stopped her fingers before the door closed entirely. It was a specific sight to watch the 'Radio Demon' stop in his tracks and turn to look at her again, microphone braced in hand and his frequency silenced to soft static. Clover had to speak fast, before she burst into embarrassed flame and turned to dust on the doorstep.

"Ya know, I don't think I could figure out what you are. I don't think you're the 'big bad deer' or whatever you want to call it, but whatever you are, it's just… Alastor."

He looked at her for a long moment, head tilted as he narrowed his eyes curiously at her, and her resolve broke. The door couldn't close fast enough as she waved a farewell, cursing the nervous crack in her voice as she fled.

"Night, Al!"

And she watched his shadow through the window, until she was sure he was gone.