Patience was a virtue that Clover liked to think she had an excess of.
Today was proving her wrong.
As the clock ticked down the hours until she could leave and rejoin Alastor, Clover's nerves began to get the best of her. Consuming coffee to pass the time didn't seem to help, it only quickened the already pounding beating of her heart. An hour before she was due to leave, Clover's body got the best of her and she was forced to remove her undershirt to combat the heat pooling uncomfortably beneath her skin. Why was she so nervous? She'd met Rosie before and their meager interactions had been pleasant, she spent endless hours with Alastor, there was absolutely nothing before her that should be inciting this amount of worrying within her. If her constant flip-flopping between outlooks on her romantic situation was driving her to madness, she could only imagine how it was affecting everyone else around her. Where was that spike of fearless curiosity she'd gotten upon falling into hell now? Perhaps the waiting was getting to her. Maybe leaving the forward movement of whatever was developing between them up to a man who had been very vocal that he did not have an excess of experience in these matters wasn't the best idea, but she wouldn't dare to cross any boundaries without his approval.
As much as she tried to ignore the signs that Alastor did indeed feel some form of affection for her, their glaring neon could only go unnoticed for so long. He'd asked her on a date, spent an excessive amount of time with her, offered her gifts in both physical and metaphorical form, and went out of his way to come to her aid despite all other odds. With the amount of trouble everyone around them had been giving her for her relationship with the Radio Demon, why did it feel so impossible to accept what everyone else seemed to see plainly?
She supposed she shouldn't be too hard on herself, she'd been through a lot over the last few weeks, it was natural that she'd be struggling with her emotions after having another unhealthy dose of trauma injected into her system. Clover could offer herself at least half the grace she offered to Alastor.
"Cloves?"
Humming into her fourth cup of coffee of the day, Clover looked up from under her bangs to find Cyrus peering at her from over the top of the espresso bar.
"I'm gonna do a sweep of the cafe and then you can go, okay?"
Another hum sent him on his way, and the seconds it took him to pick up the scattered dishware and wipe down table tops stretched well beyond what felt logical to her fidgeting frame. Finally, Cyrus came and took over for her, Clover downing the last bit of her coffee and giving him a warm pat on the shoulder as she rushed past him. Her coat remained on its hook in the backroom due to the ever-balmy temperature of Pentagram City, the decision to forgo the added coverage made solely for the sake of forcing her self-confidence. With her phone placed safely on silent in her purse and the leather of its strap digging into the bare skin of her collar bones, she was off.
"Have fun on ya' date!" Cyrus called out from behind a curtain of steam.
"I will!"
The hissing laugh that followed her out the door was enough to put a skip in her step as Clover began the short walk to where the Cannibal Colony met the more modern streets of Pentagram City. She smiled at her reflection as she passed by store windows, pausing to fix her bangs until they sat properly on top of her glasses and musing for a moment over how long they were.
A sharp shattering a few doors down from her drew her attention as she began to continue on her way, Clover eyeing the scattered broken glass that littered the sidewalk as her pace slowed. Drunkards were common in Pentagram City, but having normal sinners loitering this close to the Colony was abnormal, even by Hell's standards. Moving her path to balance along the curb, she doubled her pace as she set off towards the curling lettering that signaled her destination. The strap of her cross-body dug into her palms as she gripped the strap tighter, keeping her head down as she passed by the entrance into the alleyway and barely side-stepping another bottle shattered against the sidewalk at her feet. Everything about this felt wrong, and not just because it reminded her of her year on earth living in the inner portion of a major city. Her nerves coiled beneath her skin, twisting so tightly they threatened to burst, and her ears stood so tall that she worried they'd rip themselves from her skull. Clover broke her steady stride to half-run as panic got the better of her when the grinding of shoes against concrete came from behind her, but she wasn't quick enough.
The strap of her purse dug into her throat as she was yanked backward and she didn't hesitate to scream, reaching blindly for the clasp that connected it to the body of the bag. Her fingers fumbled for a moment too long, finally finding the metal spring that would set her free just in time for her shrieking to die with a strangled cry as she was slammed against rough brick and a hand wrapped around her throat.
"There ya' are, right where they said you'd be." The demon had its maw so close to her that all she could see was ruddy fur, but the pitchy cackle that followed behind it sent a familiar disgust through her. "I almost didn't recognize ya'! Loosing' your head n' all can fuck up your memory. Luckily my new friends were happy to help me remember."
The abrupt glow of a cell phone screen shoved too close to her glasses did little to prove his point, but Clover was able to make out the familiar shapes and colors of Velvette and herself standing at the cafe's bar.
The influencers' irritating behavior made far more sense now.
Clover's legs swung between them as her body was hauled upwards and dangled inches from the ground. The hand she had managed to get around his wrist was torn away and pressed into the wall above her, the hyena demon pinning her by the throat cackling as his claws threatened to tear into her skin. It was impossible to breathe as he tightened his grip, the remaining air in her lungs forced out by a choking whine when the rough brick at her back tore at the thin fabric of her dress and ground against her tender skin.
The demon, who had now pulled back enough where she could tell that it was, in fact, the recently revived hyena that Alastor had slaughtered, looked her over with mild interest as she struggled for breath.
"I really meant what I said last time, we coulda' had some fun if ya'd only given me a chance." Curling lips pulled back to reveal sickly green gums and yellowed, carnivorous teeth as the demon cackled, dropping her now limp limb to dangle against his side as he ghosted claws across her bicep. "Maybe you'll come back with a better attitude."
Clover closed her eyes as her vision began to blur, letting the shadows that danced in the edges of her eyesight shield her from witnessing her double death and willing herself to pass out before he ripped her to shreds. Deafened by overwhelming sounds that rattled inside her skull, a flurry of voices backlit by static and that familiar, feral hissing of freshwater predators, she barely heard the demon's final words as it rose to a crescendo.
"Ya' ain't so tough now, huh, bunny? And there's no one here to protec-"
The pressure against her throat released with a canine whine, the claws that had threatened to pierce her skin nearly taking it with them as they ripped away from her. The ground rose to meet her and Clover collapsed, falling forward onto her hands to stop herself from landing face first and barely succeeding. Her elbows bent with no resistance from her wobbling muscles, Clover crumbling into the concrete completely with a symphony of stabbing pain that echoed through her throbbing nerves.
The oxygen that had been kept from her came crashing into her lungs all at once as she wheezed, her lungs threatening to burst from her gasping breaths. Clover blinked away the unwelcome darkness that had been so close to consuming her, ears twitching at the sounds that surrounded her but unable to make sense of them through the ringing that signaled the full force of her panic crashing down upon her. Trembling legs kicked blindly, pushing her away from the snarling and snapping echoing off high walls until her back met the hard brick once again, the throbbing warmth that coated her shoulders blossoming into a sharp sting with a pained squeak.
Clover did her best to focus on the familiar sounds of static among the chaos, comforting even as it rose to a screech that brought her hands down over her ears, but she didn't dare turn her head towards the source.
"Imbecile."
Dancing shadows twisted into a long, distorted figure that cast its silhouette across the wall opposite her. She focused on those shapes, trying to find familiarity in the slashing of lith limbs and the spiraling branches that sprouted from the demon's visage as it stuttered. The jittery projection of her protector bent at odd angles, throbbing with the rise and fall of the distorted, static-laced growl that rose above the sounds of ripping flesh.
Then, it all fell quiet with a final wet squelch.
The heavy rise and fall of breath remained, slowly becoming less warped with each shaking exhale. A soft humming, the sound of warming radio tubing, pulled her heart into her throat, its familiarity cutting through the fuzz of her panic only to bury itself into her stomach and pull. Blinking through tears she had not realized had fallen, Clover slowly flexed the aching muscles of her fingers as she released her grasp on her ears and let them guide her to the source of it all.
Carnage coated the space between them, a carpet of blood and entrails coating every surface it could reach and barely skimming where she'd been sheltered. Her stomach churned at the spattering that coated the white toes of her sneakers before she forced herself to continue to seek out her savior.
It was hard to focus on him, the air still heavy with that haze of heat that warped Alastor's image, blending his crimson visage into the carnage around him and stretching his figure into impossible lengths. He towered above the tops of the smallest buildings, the twisting mass of antlers upon his head threatening to block out the red sun entirely. Teeth, now impossibly sharp, remained pulled into that too-wide smile she'd seen before as he appraised how he'd painted the town red. Street lamps dripped thickly into the growing puddles on the street below, flickering on beneath their new shade as the hour grew later. The windows beyond were streaked with red, tinting the glass a sickly pink that warped their reflections like water.
And there was Alastor.
Almost insignificant behind the shadow of the demon that commanded control of the street before her, the reflection stood just as still. His chest heaved beneath the bloodied white of his button-down shirt, warm skin spattered with vibrant splotches of scarlet. A man, just a man, that drew dazed, dark eyes along the stark line of gore that stopped inches away from shining black shoes, his wide smile never faltering as he appreciated his work.
The scattering of broken glass as Clover got to her feet snapped their attention towards her. Brilliantly backlit radio dials blinked once, twice before wide crimson focused on her shaking form. The light behind those eyes gave Clover something to push towards, Alastor's gaze flickering rapidly between her and the crime scene in which they stood. She almost whined when those eyes cast themselves downwards, robbing Clover of her guiding light as the word closed in around them.
As The Radio Demon's breathing finally settled, his once rapidly heaving chest inflated sharply one final time, but with purpose. The soft flickering of a seeking radio filled the silence, the sound twisting into her throat and daring her to breathe, but it was Alastor's voice that shattered it all.
"Clover, I-"
The tension that had been building in between her joints snapped, her nerves wound tight enough to push her through the sickness that the wet sound of her sneakers sliding through blood sunk into her stomach. Her shaking form crushed against the body that rapidly shrunk to meet her, the radio screech that echoed off high buildings fizzling to soft static as she clung to him. Fingers tangled themselves into his jacket in fear that he would disappear and leave her behind to deal with a mess she'd never meant to make. Alastor stiffened, for only a moment, before she felt the comfort of him surrounding him, shoulders slumping forward into her as she hid her face in his chest. The gentle brush of fingertips never came, but she began to weep in the comfort of his proximity regardless.
Above her, Alastor fumbled, his fingers shifting together uncertainty just inches from her shoulders. His gloves, soaked in blood, kept him from touching her out of fear that they'd finally stumbled across that line he'd never quite been sure she'd drawn. Clover could sense the nervousness in him, but she wasn't fit to aid him in her current state.
Thinking quickly as the sound of voices echoing down empty streets signaled the arrival of an audience, Alastor sprung to action. Clover almost fought against the cold tendrils that wound their way around her forearms in her panicked state but calmed as a familiar hiss reverberated through her skull.
"Hold tight, little doe."
She'd not even had time to question the shadow before it rose up around her. Clover stumbled, gripping onto Alastor as the concrete beneath her feet shifted like sand. Despite her instinct to shut her eyes against the twisting shadows, she forced herself to watch the flashes of green that swirled into almost familiar shapes among the darkness. With a bright flash that threatened to blind her, the almost-shapes the fog had molded itself into fell away to reveal their new location.
When the ground became solid beneath her once again, Clover's balance had not yet caught up with her. Her knees buckled, hands scrambling for anything to keep her upright and finding the cold feeling of countertops beneath her fingers. Bloodied palms slid against the surface with an awful screech before she found her grip, Clover allowing herself to collapse against the solid surface as the quick-paced steps of Alastor reappeared behind her.
A pang of panic as she took notice of the unfamiliarity of where he'd taken her took over her briefly, Clover's pulse picking up as she fought against instinct. Alastor's urgency gave her no time to ask questions, long arms wrapping around her waist and hoisting her to sit on the countertop without a word. Despite the dizziness his quick movements gave her, Clover's vision was slowly returning to her, the blur that had placed her in her own personal fishbowl clearing as she twisted herself around to look at their surroundings.
She was on top of a counter made of marble, a swirl of black and red that seemed to move beneath her fingers if she stared too long. The floor beneath Alastor's feet, stained with bloodied footsteps, was a simple mosaic of black and white. Dark wooden cabinets lined the walls, set below the countertops where there was not the dull shine of brushed steel, and a large white box with a silver handle hummed against the far wall. The longer she observed, the more obvious it became that this kitchen must belong to Alastor, the vintage aesthetics and utter lack of modern appliances lining up with the tastes of her classic companion.
Now that she'd established familiarity with the room, she turned her attention to the owner. Alastor seemed unsure of himself, his fingers ghosting over the long lines of blood that had begun to make pools beneath her palms. A rough, warbled growl tore through the silence as Alastor took the fingers of his gloves between his teeth, pulling sharply and dropping them to the ground before retrieving the clean dish towel that hung from the drawers beside her calves.
"Fuck!"
She hadn't expected the sharp sting that shot through her, Clover looking down to watch the shard of glass that had been pulled from her arm fall to the countertop with a clatter. Her stomach sank, now aware of the slashes in her pale skin. A hand moved to cover her mouth to block the bubble of bile that burned her throat, but it was stopped short by the snap of blackened fingers catching her wrist. Their eyes finally met, Clover seeking out Alastor's gaze with a question on her lips, but all intentions of speaking were silenced by the expression that tilted his features.
Alastor's eyes had never been so dark, not in her memory at least, with pupils blown wide enough to turn his irises black as he gazed at the blood that coated their skin. Even though his ears rotated anxiously towards every noise, his eyes were those of a predator; unhinged and focused as they followed every movement. The small squeak that unwillingly left her throat as his hold on her tightened seemed to startle him out of his trance, both ears turning towards her. His pupils swiftly shrunk to a more acceptable size as he refocused, relaxing his grip when the clearing of his throat caused her to jolt.
Alastor spoke softly, his voice nearly unrecognizable in its current state; Low and rasping among the heaviest static.
"I need you to go to the sink and wash. Can you stand?"
"I-I think so, I'm not sure," Her voice felt like she was listening to it through stained glass. "I can try."
"You may continue to hold on to me."
Continue.
The word stung, Clover looking down at the fabric of his jacket and finding dark patches forming at the waist. Instantly the panic of a broken promise set into her, and she began to babble blindly as her anxious nature took over.
"Your coat, I-I'm so sorry I didn't- I mean, I didn't ask-"
Sharp laughter cut her off, pink eyes fluttering to find an answer in his. They widened when a clawed arm wound around her waist, lifting her from the countertop and continuing to support her on their way to the steel sink set into the far corner of the kitchen. Her ears twitched when he began to speak again, the odd tones of his voice slowly leaving as his normal, pleasant cadence began to broadcast in their place.
"Why do you think red became my signature color in the first place, my dear? Stop your fretting, we have more urgent matters to attend to than the state of my wardrobe ."
It was difficult to argue with that tight smile, the panic that still tinted his features visible in the furrow of his brow, and the anxious tuning of his radio.
Clover felt helpless as she searched his eyes. She didn't know what she was looking for, comfort perhaps, but her attempts to seek it out were cut short by the lukewarm flow of water washing over her open wounds. Her gaze turned downward, watching the swirl of red that disappeared into the drain and doing her best to ignore the slits in her skin. It was an image she'd hoped she'd never see again in any lifetime, one that set guilt deep into her stomach and pulled open the old wounds of her past mistakes. It was overwhelming to feel so many emotions at once, so in an attempt to calm herself, she assessed the severity of the damage. From what she could gauge from the small glimpses she dared to take it looked far worse than it was, the amount of blood that had sprung forth from the meager amount of wounds painting a picture of more gruesome proportions. Some of the cuts were deep, small shards of glass still glinting in the soft light as the blood cleared, but they avoided anything vital. She'd had worse in life, now her scraped skin had just wept more than it had been worth.
Alastor's shaking breath danced across her neck, sending a shudder through her that collapsed her further into him. It was too quiet, he was too far away despite the weight of him pressing into her back and his gentle hands tending to her. Clover tilted her chin upward, looking up from beneath her bangs to seek out whatever comfort she could. She found it in his eyes as they intensely focused on minding her marred flesh. He did his best to keep the harsh stream from the faucet from further irritating her skin, turning her by the wrist he kept clutched in his claws to rid her wounds of debris.
Letting go of her for a moment, Alastor hissed something that sounded like a curse before lifting a hand to his face shortly to remove his monocle before returning to tending to her. As one arm was cleaned, he moved to the other's slightly larger wounds where her assailant's claws had caught her skin, his chest pressing into her back as he continued to support her shaking frame between his arms. Clover's gaze was drawn from watching his eyes flicker across her skin to the frustrated grinding of his smile, watching as his lips pulled back to reveal black gums as they winced together when another larger piece of glass clattered against the bottom of the sink.
In an attempt to fill the silence, she found her voice, as timid as it was.
"You know first aid?"
Alastor glanced at her, his smile softening slightly before he returned his attention to her wounds. Satisfied that they were clean enough, he let go of her arms to take her by the waist, fingers dipping into the small of it as he turned her to face him. Once again he lifted her to the countertop, putting her at a more even height for him to work. He quickly removed his stained jacket, rolled up his sleeves, and reached into the counter above her to retrieve a leather bag that she assumed was a medical kit. He didn't answer her right away, but she didn't mind, Clover becoming thoroughly distracted by the measured confidence in his movements.
Alastor glanced briefly at the state of her legs, looking over the rips in her tights and tucking his fingers against the sensitive skin behind her knees to lift them further into the light. Clover tried to ignore how that touch drove a fire along the back of her thighs, scolding herself for allowing arousal to begin at a time like this. Satisfied that there was no glass embedded between the fibers of her ruined rights, Alastor gently returned her leg to the countertop before moving back towards the sink. He dried his now-washed hands with the already stained kitchen towel and returned to her with a heavy sigh, taking the worse of her two wounded forearms between gentle palms and looking over her wounds before removing the remaining debris with a set of fine tweezers.
He began to speak before she became distressed with the state of herself again, pulling her attention like the glass from her skin.
"I've taken enough people apart to know how to keep them together, darling. Dangerous hobbies and their consequences require one to know such things."
A curved scar that dipped below the crook of his elbow drew her eye as he reached back into the satchel, and she understood. He'd mentioned before that his injuries had not been self-inflicted, in a moment that felt almost as tense as the one they found themselves in now. Avoiding the heavier topics that he implied, Clover attempted to continue to hold casual conversation as her wounds were pressed against with clean cloth, Alastor attempting to slow her bleeding now that he was satisfied that they were cleared.
"Did you pick this up in life or death?" She winced around her words, grinding her teeth at the initial sting but relaxing as the pain dulled under his steady hand.
"...My mother first taught me as a boy, when she'd once cut herself with a kitchen knife. I learned to tend to a wider variety of injuries through my childhood out of circumstance."
Unsure of how to respond, Clover looked up at him, hoping to find something to read in his expression. Instead, she was distracted by the splatter of red that stood out against his muted skin. The confusing swirl of emotions that image stirred inside of her swayed her judgment and Clover's tender tendencies took over; she reached out to wipe away the drop of blood that coated the corner of his mouth. Through her haze, she noticed that Alastor's posture had stiffened at the movement but it was too late to stop now, Clover had committed herself to the strange and oddly romantic gesture. His sharp exhale blew across her palm as she smeared the stain with her thumb, transfixed by the way his lips shifted at the slightest pull. The pounding of her heart as she became distracted by those lips, now fallen slack around his smile, made her aware of the intimate moment she'd thrust upon the both of them. She hoped the blood that began to race within her didn't ruin Alastor's efforts to stop her bleeding, but that thought and any other was ripped from her with a single movement.
A dark tongue darted from between sharp teeth, dragging against the remaining blood that stained his lips before it disappeared again. Their eyes met as her breathing became unsteady, and once again she found his turning dark. Clover couldn't help the curiosity that pushed her to speak, her unsteady whisper barely audible over the static.
"Is that-"
"It's yours."
His tone put more weight to the words than he intended, its rough edge dragging like claws up her spine. Clover couldn't help the shudder that ran through her, and she was thankful that Alastor seemed equally overwhelmed. His echoed breathing lay heavily between them, filling the space in between with a tension she didn't have the words to explain the depth of.
Finally, after what felt like an eternity trapped in his gaze, he broke it. Alastor turned to look at the hand that hovered inches from his jaw before taking it into his own, wiping the blood from her fingers before busying himself once again by applying antiseptic to her wounds. The sting pulled a whimper from her throat, Alastor allowing her a moment to breathe before he continued. Her head fell against him, Clover biting down on her lip to keep herself quiet and finding comfort in the solid pressure of his shoulder beneath her cheek. When Alastor began to hum softly as he wrapped her wounds, Clover blinked through the dampness pooling in her eyes and turned her head so she could look up at him once again.
Through the blur of tears, the image of Alastor in front of her began to shift in that confusing manner she'd slowly stopped being surprised by. Dark eyes seemed even darker as they turned to look down at her, widening slightly when he found her gazing up at him and shifting back to their bold crimson when he blinked. His radio station began to flicker rapidly as he looked over her tear-stained cheeks, his brow furrowing as he searched her face. Alastor sighed once he'd found whatever he'd been looking for and a soft melody breathed to life before it faded into quiet background noise. Seeming to attempt to force himself to relax, his chest rose beneath her, Alastor steadying himself with a slow breath and asking a quiet question.
"Are you alright?"
Clover hummed in response, listening to the soft static that hung in the air around him. Gentle hands tucked beneath her chin, pulling her upright. For a moment, she was unsure of what he was doing, feeling her nerves buzz beneath bare fingers as he twisted her head slowly from side to side. The slightest drag of claws against the still tender skin of her throat made apparent the fact that he was checking her for further damage. Being nearly strangled by the now-departed demon was sure to have left a mark, but Alastor's touch banished the phantom feeling of her assault. He hummed in displeasure, his lip curling slightly at what she assumed was the blossoming signs of bruising. The gentle melody that filled the air became warped again as Alastor dropped his chin to his chest with a heavy sigh, goosebumps rising on the exposed skin of her chest where his breath blew across it. Her worry broke through the burning that sank into her skin from where his palm still pressed into her jaw, Clover turning her head in an attempt to catch his eye again but unable to fully see him in their proximity.
"Al?" Clover's voice shook, but she continued anyway. "Are you alr-"
"Are you honestly asking me if I am well when you are in this state?"
"Yes."
He didn't lift his head, not even as he let out a short, sardonic laugh before continuing.
"You would ask the wolf how it was enjoying the weather before it swallowed you whole, my dear."
Any humor he was attempting to insert into the conversation fell flat behind the confusing, tormented tone his voice had taken on, his laugh track clicking off almost as quickly as it had started.
"I just, I've never seen you like- Well, like that, and now you seem…uneasy."
Alastor released her from his grasp to brace himself against the countertop, planting his palms on either side of her as he fell quiet once again. Clover's heart began to ache; She wasn't entirely sure what was bothering him. She'd always thought he had found joy in the slaughter of lesser demons, but her confusion aside, she didn't like seeing him distraught. His concern for her was obvious, even as her self-loathing still fought to ignore it, and it wasn't out of character for Alastor to take drastic measures against those who didn't pay his companions common courtesy. Unsure of what to do to quell whatever inner battles were waging inside his mind, Clover decided to lead a personal search for support and allowed her needs to pull her nearer to him.
In her place atop the countertop, trapped between his arms, they were near equal in height. Clover took advantage of their leveled playing field and leaned into him once again, resting a freshly bandaged hand against his arm as her forehead pressed against his temple. She felt the twitch of his ears against her own as she whispered the only words she could think would console him.
"Thank you."
He sank further around her with a shaking breath, Clover barely able to make out the furrowing of his brow as his smile twisted once again. Instinctively she began to pull away, her voice trembling as she rushed to make amends for overstepping his boundaries.
"I'm sorry, I can leave you alone if you let me d-"
"No." Alastor's amplified voice echoed through the room, her ears lying flat in response and his radio tuning rapidly.
Clover blinked at the sudden rise of volume from him, lifting her gaze from where it had dropped to her bloody sneakers dangling beside his knees. Her breath caught in her throat at how close he was to her still, nearly bumping her head into his due to the proximity. She found no hostility in his eyes, only the slightest of unease attempting to twist his smile, so she allowed herself to lean into him.
The softest of sighs escaped him as they touched, Alastor's shoulders deflating as he pressed back against her. The small sign of affection startled her slightly, not used to such tender contact with the demon but feeling her heart warm at the motions nonetheless. Her bangs became ruffled as she gave into the urge to nuzzle her forehead against his, Clover surely pushing her luck with each soft brush of skin. After a long moment of almost-comfortable silence, his voice broke through the shifting static, clear from the alterations of his microphone but burdened with an emotion that felt foreign on his tongue.
"What have you done to me?"
Confused, Clover made space for him, leaning back to look at him properly. She couldn't find any sign of injury when she searched for it, but her guilt that she'd not thought of the possibility sooner sent panic through her once again, words falling too fast from her lips.
"What do you mean, did I hu-"
"No, darling, you never could."
"Then what?"
Only a hair's breadth was left between them as he moved closer by stepping between her knees, Alastor leaning into her and knitting his brow with a sigh.
"I'm not sure how to explain, this is difficult for me, you see. I've…Well, I've not felt quite so human in a century."
"Human?"
"Yes darling," Her vision went red as he opened his eyes again, Clover completely captured by the sincerity that warmed them. "Human; Yearning, emotional, vulnerable, all those things that you hope die with your mortal self."
"But why-"
"Because of you."
It was becoming impossible to hear him over the rushing of blood that echoed between her ears, the feeling growing when his hands returned to her skin, both sets of claws coming to cup her face as he continued.
"You've bewitched me, somehow. Never has anyone been able to break me from the thrall of my demonic form. Yet one look at you, rushing towards me like I was your sav-" Alastor grit his teeth, stopping his sentence cold as one would when attempting to avoid cursing before trying again. "Well, I would have struck any other soul down without a thought, nothing more but a shadow among the sweet fog of bloodlust. But you, I saw clearly, and against all prior instinct I allowed you to come to me, as I have done since you walked through death's door."
He paused, pulling away slightly to look her in the eye as his brow furrowed.
"In all my years in Hell and on Earth, I have never wanted to protect someone so desperately as I do you."
It was like someone sucked all the oxygen from the room. Clover felt everything all at once, waves of emotion crashing down onto her one after another, battering against the stone wall of her denial until it cracked. She struggled to breathe through the tumbling mess of proclamations that threatened to spill over, her mouth falling open as she took this new side of the man in front of her.
She would have never expected the Radio Demon to wear such a vulnerable expression, his trademark grin reduced to nothing more but a tense upturn at each corner of his lips. Staring into the crimson eyes that observed her reaction with obvious apprehension, she searched for a reason why he was telling her this. She found it in her reflection, the image rose colored but honest. Clover always knew that her fondness for Alastor was obvious, but seeing the blatant love mirrored in the abnormal glassiness of his eyes sealed the deal. If what he was telling her meant what she hoped it did in the depths of her hopelessly romantic mind, this might be the best time to give in to her desires.
"Alastor, can I-"
"Yes."
A breath of laughter passed between them, Alastor allowing his forehead to brush against hers as his smile grew more genuine at her giggling.
"You don't even know what it is."
"Whatever you desire, the answer is yes."
Clover had taken the first step, but now she leapt.
"Can I kiss you?"
His breathing shook, and she was prepared to back out entirely and lick her wounds until she felt the slightest movement of him nodding against her. Moving back just enough to look him in the eye, Clover paused, watching for any sign of discomfort before moving forward. She only had a moment to admire the flush that was creeping up his neck before Alastor found his nerve. He leaned in quickly, his lips still locked together in a tight smile as they pressed to hers for what couldn't even constitute a second before he pulled away again. It took a moment for her surprise at his sudden not-so-tender attempt at affection to fade before her chest blossomed with the warmth of utter endearment.
It was so utterly Alastor .
Fueled by the fond fire that the manner of her charismatic companion sparked in her, Clover looked up at the demon that had busied himself with looking over her bandages. The twitching of his ears meant he was listening for a reaction, and the motion only became more frantic as she reached out to him. When he showed no immediate signs of discomfort at the gentle cradling of his face between her palms, she ignored the heart that threatened to burst from her chest, closed her eyes, and pressed her lips to his.
The rise in static didn't deter her, Clover keeping the kiss gentle against the clenching of his jaw beneath her fingers. She knew his eyes had gone wide, the skin beneath the gentle caress of her thumb shifting as he blinked through his surprise. The fact that the static stayed consistent calmed her fear that he would shove her away as soon as he came to his senses, so she took the chance of gently moving her lips against his, hoping to soften the tight line of his smile and coax him to kiss her properly. The slight intake of breath he took at this development gifted her with fewer teeth to deal with, his mouth falling slack as he relaxed. His lips, softer than sin as they molded against hers, were fuller than she could have expected when she'd only ever seen them drawn out into a wide smile.
The kiss he gave back to her was far gentler than his earlier attempt, Alastor falling into the slow rhythm she created. His hands found the curve of her waist, and this time there was no questioning if he'd felt her shiver by the way his fingers twitched around her. The slightest hint of claws that appeared when her hand slid down his neck sent chills across her skin, feeling Alastor swallow nervously beneath her fingers and taking it as a sign to check in again before she pushed him too far. Despite her reluctance to break whatever spell she'd put him under, Clover pulled away, placing a hand flat against his chest as she leaned back to gauge his reaction.
His eyes opened slowly, their warm glow flickering as he blinked. It took him a moment of staring down at her to come back to himself, Alastor leaning slightly into her palm as she brushed her thumb along his cheek. She was tempted to kiss him again, the gentleness his daze brought to his expression causing her heart to flutter, but her chance was gone before she could seize it.
"Well!"
The swell of music startled her enough that she almost fell off the counter entirely as Alastor abruptly stepped away, busying himself with fixing his sleeves as he began to pace in front of her. The normally bombastic Alastor was back, his radio rapidly flickering among the amplification of his voice.
"I believe we both require some freshening up after such an eventful evening!"