Four hours later, Clover was awake again.
It had only taken a few good swigs of the bottle to lull her to sleep, just enough to dull the aching in her limbs and silence the screaming of her mind. She'd replayed the night's events over and over, watching through to the end before rewinding and starting over; Eventually, she'd begun to stop short, pausing just before everything had gone wrong to linger on those precious minutes she'd shared with Alastor. Clover had fallen asleep to thoughts of him, and her drunken dreams had followed suit, sending her visions of dancing demons and soft-spoken sweetness that had her sobbing in her sleep.
When she awoke her eyes burned from the mascara that ran with her tears, and Clover couldn't help but be impressed at how long the cosmetic had lasted; She'd have to ask Lollie what brand it was, she noted. The laugh the thought pulled out of her was humorless, a wheezing of breath between withered vocal cords into her empty room, and her thirst pushed her from her bed. The clothes she'd managed to get off once she'd made it to her room lay scattered, landmines of heels and blue polyester dotting the path to her bed. The rest of her costume joined them on her way to the bathroom, Clover resulting to ripping her bra over her head when her fingers failed to unclasp it and almost forgetting to remove her stockings before stepping into the shower.
It was impossible to tell how long she'd sat in the bottom of her shower before she found the energy to move again, but her skin seemed to sigh in relief at the lotion rubbed in afterward. Soaking the bagging t-shirt she slid over her damp skin, Clover returned to her bed to whittle away the remaining hours until morning. When sleep would not come to her aid, she turned to the treasures in her bedside table drawer, flicking open her most recent read and sliding the precious photographs from between the pages. Even though her eyes grew heavy with sorrow all over again at the sight of them together, Clover's curiosity overshadowed the longing that ached in her chest as her thoughts returned to Alastor.
What had happened to him? Part of her worried that he might have been ill, a fever would surely explain his odd behavior, but she didn't even know if demons could get sick. His skin had been unbearably warm against her palms when she'd touched his face, more so than their rambunctious behavior could have explained, and he'd been more flushed than she'd ever seen him before. All of this kept her from wishing he would have stayed to help fend off the fiends that had taken over her evening; Even if he was capable of tearing Vox down from his pedestal with only minor injuries to show for it, doing so to all three of the Vees while severely under the weather was another thing entirely.
At least he hadn't been there to see how horribly she'd handled herself.
Clover flexed her fingers, testing how badly bruised her knuckles were, and she couldn't help but smile at the memory of Valentino's glasses clattering to the floor. He'd looked so shocked, so stunned that she'd knocked that smug smile clean off his face- As silly as it was, Clover was quite proud of herself for that. Who knew how many people wished they could have done the same? But she'd gotten to it first.
Dammit, Alastor would be proud, Clover cursed, unwilling to let her twisted thinking ruin the developing pride he'd praised not only to her but to others as well.
The thought had her burying her face into her knees, feeling the warmth of his approval rise to the surface of her skin as an echo of words spoken in this very room replayed in her mind.
"Atta' girl."
A familiar ache in the emptiness of her pelvis earns a feeble groan against the plush of her blankets, Clover feeling a small sense of disgust that she'd be able to feel something such as desire at a time like this. Thinking through the motions that had led up to when it all went wrong, who could blame her? Their physicality had shifted in the last few days; They'd almost gotten back to the banter she was so fond of, Alastor had been slowly pushing the boundaries of public affection as time went on, and the complications in communications between them had a resolution on the horizon. They'd come so far, yet something always seemed to get in the way.
She guessed their dinner plans were going to have to wait.
Her patience for Alastor himself was endless, or she liked to believe it was, but at some point, a decision was going to have to be made about the state of whatever this involvement with each other truly was. Her irritation ate away the need that burned in her, allowing her to think more clearly without the thick cloud of carnality clouding her mind, and she sank back into her pillows to read away the rest of the witching hours with the hope that the distraction would keep her busy brain at bay.
The red sun had barely begun to trickle through her curtains when the sound of a door down the hall perked up her ears. It was far too early for any of her neighbors to be moving after the night's events, Angel rarely rolled out of bed before noon and Lollie- Well, perhaps Lollie had turned up again. Returning her photographs to her book with another lingering look over them as she slid herself out from the comfort of her covers, Clover tugged on the pair of sweatpants hanging crumpled near her hamper before investigating. She hid the opening of her door beneath the sound of another closing and peeked out into the hall.
Instead of either one of her housemates, it was Cyrus that she found standing in the hallway, hovering between their two doors. Curious, Clover crept closer, leaving her door standing open behind her as she went to investigate what business her boss of all people had sneaking out of someone else's bedroom just shy of sunrise.
"...Long night?"
Cyrus nearly jumped out of his skin at her whispered question, spinning around with a hiss that flared pointed nostrils and flashed his fangs. As soon as he recognized that it was her, the reptile relaxed and returned to shrugging his jacket over jagged shoulders.
"Fuckin-" Cyrus sighed, raking a hand through his hair before giving her soft snickering a lackluster glare. "You could kill a man like that, ya' know?"
"Sorry, I was just going to get something to eat."
A lie, but a good idea anyway if her stomachs rumbling was any indication. Clover leaned a hand against the wall for support as she began her impromptu trip downstairs, using her slowed pace as an excuse to further analyze the situation. Cyrus was only mostly dressed, his leather duster covering most of his skin despite being left open but still drawing attention to the lack of shirt underneath it, the belt and holster portion of his costume slung over one shoulder and his jeans sagging slightly as he shuffled along beside her. Looking back at the two doors of her friends, it all fell together in front of her so suddenly she nearly tripped over it.
As happy as she was that all her friends seemed to get along, the idea of any of them sleeping together would take more than a little getting used to.
Clover looked back at the two doors, trying to guess which one Cyrus might have come out of. The puzzle was a welcome distraction from her still tender ankle and the rest of the woes weighing down her shoulders, and Clover found herself becoming incredibly amused by the possibilities; Cyrus had gotten friendly with Angel Dust within a few meetings and had quickly moved into physical forms of flirting with Lollie, but she couldn't bet on the base personality traits of her dearest friends to solve this mystery for her. She'd just been peering into the open crack in Lollie's door to see if she could see any sign of the mint demoness sprawled across her bed when she came to the first step, nearly missing it with the only good foot she had left. The feeling of her claws removing themselves from the wooden banister sent an ache through her teeth, but the hand that took her elbow distracted her from the ugly chill the texture sent across her skin. Her head turned to catch the tail end of Cyrus's concerned expression before it hardened into a stubbornness he wore more plainly as he looked her over.
"You want some help? Actually, s-s-scratch that, you're gettin' it whether you like it or not."
Cyrus ignored her feeble whine in response, hunching his shoulders down into her and tossing her arm around his neck, holding up most of her weight with an arm across her back as he half-carried her down the stairs at a snail's pace. It was quiet for a moment while Clover got used to the feeling of him beside her, her nerves not entirely prepared for the touch of another, but her heart welcomed his abrasive take on their odd acquaintanceship. Her fingers twitched away as they accidentally brushed the rough scales of his collarbone, reminded that Cyrus was not-quite-indecently exposed. The form she'd gotten brief glimpses of the night before returned to her memory as she wondered where his shirt might have gotten off too, reminding her of the stretching skin and spines that shredded through seersucker.
"Hey Cy?" The lazy grumble she got in response rolled her eyes, but Clover pressed on anyway. "What was that last night?"
Cyrus sighed, staring straight ahead down the stairs as she slowed them down long enough to look at him. He barely lifted his eyes from the floor as he readjusted his grip on her, the slits of his pupils growing wider as a small smile tugged up the corner of his mouth closest to her.
"There goes thos-s-se questions- What was what?"
"You…changed, like Alastor does. I didn't know you could do that."
"Cause I don't do it very often," Cyrus said simply, and Clover was happy to leave it at that; But Cyrus stopped their descent on the landing, his fingers tapping on her side as he took a decided breath and continued. "Hey, uh, S-s-speaking of The Radio- Alastor- I'm… s-s-sorry for pushing your boyfriend's buttons, I was just tryin' to help- I dunno, get things going, I guess? I didn't mean to get in the way, or cause problems or anythin'- Just kinda pisses me off that ya'll do all that dancing around each other n' then he wasn't takin' the chances offered to him on a s-s-silver platter."
It took a moment for Clover to decipher what he was saying, his hissing stutter slurring words together when spoken too fast and his casual tone glossing over the underlying insecurity. It was almost funny, how his opinion of Alastor had seemed to shift over time; She didn't think he'd ever admit to that but it was enough that they were at least semi-cordial for the time being, and Clover could only hope that time would prove that Alastor was far more than the high-collar criminal Cyrus thought him to be. Clover blinked up at him, waiting for those yellowed eyes to remove themselves from the floor and look at her; They didn't, but she answered him anyway.
"You didn't ruin anything, though I still maintain that you're a mean drunk, not to mention rowdy,"
That broke the harsh line of Cyrus's jaw, cracking it open into a small smile as he flicked his tongue between his teeth and breathed a laugh through his nose. He shuffled them forward with the conversation, still refusing to look at her as he rambled on.
"I'll give you that one- Listen, Mimzy got on my ass last night for tellin' you how I felt when you've already got s-s-so much goin' on. It was an asshole move even for me, I shouldn't have said anything about it, I just- I care about you, I don't have many friends and it's really fuckin' rare that s-s-someone comes along that doesn't drive me to dig another grave- I didn't want my feeling's getting in the way of that, I thought it was better if you knew," Finally Cyrus turned to look at her, her silence stiffening his shoulders as he rushed to fix whatever mistakes he was convincing himself he was making. "Aaand I'm doin' it again, you're probably beat after last night, I'm s-s-sorry,"
"...So, you're saying you want to be best friends?"
Cyrus stopped dead on the staircase at that, dropping his foot to the next step with an echo that resounded off empty halls and nearly taking her down with him.
"That's what you got outta all that? I s-s-swear to fuckin-"
The shaking of her shoulders as she tried her best to hide her laughter at his indignation quickly deflated the defensive posture he'd taken on, Cyrus's sputtering expletives to unstick his fangs from where they'd gotten caught on his lips. Clover swallowed around her snickering, trying her best to level her voice as she patted his arm and nudged him back into helping her make their way down the stairs.
"I'm kidding, Cy. You don't have to apologize, it didn't make me see you any differently. I'm…I'm glad that you told me. You're a great friend, even if you're an ass sometimes."
"Yeah, well- That comes with the territory,"
It was quiet for a long moment, the tone almost comfortable as Cyrus shifted from half-lifting her down every step to simply holding her arm to help balance her. They were both thinking, she supposed, going over what had been said in their respective mental spaces and settling into an almost comfortable silence as they descended the final set of stairs into the lobby. All of this at once should have been too much for her already thin patience, but something about the honest way Cyrus was speaking settled her, this tiny splash of abnormally-normal conversation was just odd enough to smack her out of her slump for a few seconds of clarity.
Speaking of thought, Clover could almost feel Cyrus thinking beside her, hearing him metaphorically bounce something around in his head before he settled himself with a slow breath.
"...You can ask one question."
It was almost a whisper, spoken through his teeth as if in secret.
"Huh?"
"About me, you get one question."
"What are you running from?"
Clover couldn't stop the question before it came tumbling out of her mouth, and her stomach clenched that she'd accidentally upset him by asking such a heavy question with ease; But Cyrus just chuckled as he pulled a pack of cigarettes out of his pocket, making use of his newly freed hand to light up in the empty lobby. His answer came with a puff of smoke that was not entirely tobacco before he passed the roll of paper in her direction.
"I could ask you the same thing."
Taking the blunt that was handed her way, Clover tried not to chew on the end of it as she analyzed him. Once she was assured by his continued presence beside her and the quirk of his brow that she hadn't blown her only question on something existential she moved onward, waiting until he'd taken another hit of his morning medicals to ask something that had been lingering on the back of her mind since the last odd moment they'd shared together.
"Who was she? The girl you mentioned before."
For a second she thought he might retract his offer, Cyrus exhaling heavily in a cloud of smoke that curled from his nostrils; It reminded Clover of a dragon, ancient and worn from time.
"Eva, Eveline, but everyone called her Eva. She was the preacher's daughter, in this town I was passing through. I ended up s-s-sticking around long after I was welcomed, too long. Long enough to ruin 'er."
"I'm sure that's not true."
"Maybe- She never ended up down here so she must have done s-s-something right." Cyrus simply shrugged, but the long hold of his next inhale told more stories than he seemed to be willing to share. "That's all over now- Just history."
Clover wasn't quite sure what she could say to that without further pushing for information, so she said nothing at all and let the silence carry the weight that had settled over them. As much as this conversation meant to her friendship with Cyrus, Clover couldn't help but long for another's voice to chime in, someone who gave in to easy banter and chiding commentary. An ache developed in her chest the longer they stood there, her eyes turning to look over the tattered remains of the decorations to distract herself and noticing that they lacked the glimmer of magic they'd held the night before. It wasn't until Cyrus reeled himself in from whatever pit of grieving memory he'd fallen into and turned to follow her gaze that he seemed to notice her wilting mood, but he quickly pulled her attention away from the ghosts of a good time with a sharp clearing of his throat.
"I'll be back later, help clean up n'shit, I'm just gonna' home to change clothes n' put a sign up at the shop." Cyrus rocked on his heels, seeming caught between wanting to walk away and stick around a moment longer. "You want coffee?"
That tugged her lips back into a small smile, Clover nodding her response when words wouldn't make it past the lump in her throat. The step Cyrus took to leave was sharply turned towards her with a resigned sigh, his arm wrapping around her shoulders as he held his smoking blunt safely away from her skin and pulled her into his side. Clover startled but relaxed when the touch didn't twist in her stomach, turning her head away to rest her cheek against the worn leather of his jacket and trying her best not to bump against his tail as she wrapped an arm around his waist. Their hug was brief, Cyrus pulling back from where his nose had ended up in the crown of her head to flick at her ear before he let her go. With one more worried look in her direction, Cyrus left Clover to her early morning, the door swinging shut behind him and closing with a soft click that felt too loud to her ears when echoed in the emptiness of the hotel's lobby. Ignoring all she could of what remained of her festive failure, Clover shuffled her way to the kitchen.
She was surprised to find Husker slouched against the kitchen counter when she walked in, and even more surprised to see Lollie chattering away beside him with Fat Nuggets nestled against her hip. Both turned when Clover entered the room and shuffled towards the refrigerator.
"Morning sunshine!" Lollie sang as she sidled up beside Clover, shifting Fat Nuggets from her hip to hold the squirming pig out towards her. "Your turn to babysit bunny, I've had my time."
The tiny squeal Nuggets gave as he wiggled into Clover's arm placated the growing irritation itching at her neck just long enough for her to wrangle the cold brew pitcher and her bottle of creamer from the fridge, but as soon as she'd placed the pet atop the counter to free her hands, the feeling became too much. She twitched, her head turned sharply to where Lollie had busied herself with topping up her glass of orange juice with a fizzing bottle as Clover's mood turned citric.
"Where were you?"
Husker and Lollie shared a look over the top of equally alcoholic-smelling beverages, and the latter took her time drinking down her fill before she bothered to reply.
"Stuck hidin' out in the laundry room, I booked my ass outta' there as soon as I saw that things were about to get ugly."
"You knew? You didn't- You didn't do anything to stop it and you knew?" Her voice was rising, echoing across the harsh surfaces of the kitchen completely out of her control as it cracked and wavered with the hurt that reformed in her chest.
"Why the fuck am I always here when you decided to pick a fight?"
Husker's grumble earned him a glare that could have cut off his whiskers if not for the watering of her eyes- Why was she crying this time? Clover wondered. Before she could further deconstruct the dangerously teetering state of her normally only slightly unbalanced emotional state Lollie was talking again, leaning over the counter to grab from the leftover candy scattered across the surface and speaking through chewy caramel.
"Honey, what could I have done? I told ya', I'm all for being here for moral support and havin' a few laughs, but I can't stand up to Val outright- Not yet."
"We could have- I mean, you could have helped, maybe- Anything instead of just aban-"
"You're pointing fingers stained with tears honey, be careful before you say something you're not gonna mean once things are all better again." Lollie snapped, and the clarity of her speech paired with the frighteningly mature expression that crossed her face stopped Clover's spiral in its tracks. For once, Lollie appeared the age Clover had never been told she was; The sharp scowl on her face pushed lines between thin brows and made the hollow dips below her eyes all the more apparent beneath the smeared remains of her makeup. "Look, I didn't know where you went. I turned around and both you and Big Red were gone. I'd gone to the punch bowl and my alert for Velvette's story posts went off- I took one look at their costumes and knew they were comin'. I tried to find you and Angel, but by the time I caught sight of Cy they were already in the door."
Nuggets nudged his way in between them, tiny hooves digging into Clover's stomach as he squeaked up at them both. Lollie's expression softened soon after as she stepped around the kitchen island to stand at Clover's side, gentle hands pressing down ruffled bits of her shirt as Lollie's fingers smoothed between her shoulders.
"I'm sorry I couldn't stop the surprise, but I had to get outta' there."
"...I'm sorry, I'm just-" Clover sighed, her tongue twisting around her options for excuses.
What could she say? She wasn't even entirely sure how she felt about it all; Annoyed, angry, worried, regretful- But beneath all of that was that aching, empty pit in her stomach that longed to be filled with something that had slipped between her fingers, and that was maybe the most aggravating emotion of them all.
"I don't know what I am, a mess, I guess. I've got too much to think about right now, I didn't- I didn't think before I said it, I'm sorry."
"No hard feelings bunny, we've all had a long night."
With a soft pat on Clover's shoulder, Lollie twisted her way around the counter to collect her scattered excuse for breakfast, made up mostly of alcohol and leftover Halloween candy, and quietly excused herself from the kitchen. The only noise from any of them for a long time was the soft snuffling of Fat Nuggets bumping his head into Clover's palm and her stifled giggling when the pig's short fuzz tickled the tender skin of her wrist, and for once, Clover didn't mind the silence. When she moved to finish preparing her morning coffee and collect a selection of foods that she supposed one could call breakfast, if you squinted, Husker took over handling the tiny pig that attempted to trot after her. Clover couldn't help the smile that spread across her face when the shrill squeals that showed Nuggets's upset at being trapped died out into a spattering of soft snorts among the familiar rumbling of a purr. Husker noticed her staring as she sipped at her coffee, lifting his eyes from where he'd been distantly looking at the countertop behind her.
"...I don't wanna hear it."
The gruffness of Husker's warning paired with the adorable image of him lulling Angel's pet to sleep in his arms with something as sweet as a purr was almost too much for Clover to stand, her coffee nearly spitting across the countertop as she sputtered a laugh around a sip and quickly clamped a hand over her mouth. The purring stopped as Husker joined her with his own nearly inaudible chuckles, his shoulders shaking around the tiny pig as they both collapsed into hushed laughter. Clover ate her fill of her breakfast with Husker lazing at her side, the two falling back into a comfortable silence that allowed Clover's mind to wander. The list of events to deconstruct grew longer with every moment she spent outside of solitude, creating more mental chaos for her to weigh through to get to what she wanted most; She was beginning to understand why Alastor retreated when faced with decisions or matters that required proper deliberation.
Alastor.
Again her thoughts returned to him, now with fresh worries to drive herself mad over. Could she go to him? Maybe not like this, with her ankle still twinging at every shift of her weight, but once she'd cleared her mind and gotten enough proper rest to put up with whatever stubborn push-back she knew would be waiting for her. If she could wait that long, of course, but perhaps she wouldn't need to wait, perhaps he would appear again as if nothing had ever happened- No, he'd appear again with the knowledge that so much has happened, and he'd keep to his word, he'd want to set it all right again- But why couldn't she be the one to rescue him for once? What was stopping her from being the one to take their relationship by the reins, so to speak? His boundaries still stood, a line in the sand they'd smeared with equally misplaced footsteps but she knew, no, she hoped that she knew him well enough by now to support him without overstepping, or that if she did, he would admire her- Oh, what would he call it?- Her tenacity.
A sharp clearing of Husker's throat beside her pulled her attention from her empty plate, and Clover found Husker watching her with an expression she struggled to place despite its familiarity; It opened a hole in her chest that burned, warm and weeping against her aching heart, and she was thankful when he started talking so she could better ignore it.
"...You did good, kid. I know that some of these clowns are gonna try and convince you that swingin' on that piece of shit was a bad idea, but they're wrong. The only thing you fucked up doin' was not keepin' your mouth shut, but with the company you keep, who coulda' been surprised," Husker sighed at the half-sob that came out alongside a light laugh at his commentary, his heavy claws flopping her ears into her face as he placed them atop her head and turned her to look at him. "Everythin' will work out, eventually- Now come on and let's get that ankle wrapped, it'll keep it from getting worse. We've got work to do."
The rest of the hotel, minus Lollie and Angel, had rolled out of bed by the time Cyrus returned. In the time in between, they'd left Fat Nuggets to play safely among the clean laundry with KeeKee and Husker had wrapped Clover's ankle with a roll of bandages that Niffty had scurried in with when he called. It was odd, to have the older and normally prickly demon being so gentle with her, and his actions reopened that hole in her chest again twice before mid-morning. He'd let her walk on her own towards the lobby but watched her every step of the way, only intervening when they stumbled upon the single remaining party guest sprawled across the floor a few feet behind the couch that had been pushed aside to make room for dancing.
"Is he…uh, is he okay? Should we just leave him there?" Clover worried, peering over the back of the loveseat.
Husker shoved his foot into the side of the black and gold snake demon that had curled himself around the ornate leg of the couch, disrupting the hissing that fluttered the tongue that stuck out between his teeth, but the demon didn't wake. Instead, he rolled over, hiding his cherry-lipstick-stained face with the folds of his hood, and continued to snore. Husker stared down at him for a moment, hands on his hips, before he shrugged his shoulders with a scowl and held out a hand to help Clover step over him.
"I ain't movin' him."
When they'd settled at the bar, the only place in the lobby that was some semblance of clean after the party had crashed and burned, Clover was surprised to find that the remains of her camera and the photographs were all gone. Ignoring the clenching of her chest at their loss, she instead focused on helping Husker by sorting the different glasses they'd used to serve cocktails the night prior. It was on his second trip from shuffling the dishware back and forth to be washed that the girls came downstairs and disappeared into the kitchen only to reappear a few minutes later with cereal bowls and coffee cups in tow.
Clover prepared herself for the discussion she was sure would begin once they'd all settled in together at the bar; It never came. Vaggie paused before sitting down beside her to give her a sympathetic smile and the conversation about cleaning the hotel was harshly steered away from any mention of the party crashers by Charlie, but that was it. Eventually, they all split apart into groups to tackle cleaning whatever the tiny cyclone otherwise known as Niffty had not gotten to yet, with Clover talking her way into being allowed to help with the promise that she would "take it easy" and Husker volunteering to be her partner to soothe Charlie's worries.
"Course' Alastor had to make this place a livin' nightmare and then I gotta clean it up." Husker's grumble was hard to hear from his place on the ladder high above her, but her ears twitched upwards at the mention of Alastor's name. Husker paused his cleaning to look down at her, his ears tilting downward back at her as he dropped another streamer into her waiting hands. "Sorry."
"It's okay." Clover appreciated the care he was taking with their relationship, but that was not the thing that was bothering her about Alastor. "Hey, Husk?"
The use of his name instead of the nickname she'd picked up from Alastor earned a raise of his brow, and Clover continued.
"...Have you heard from Alastor?"
Her question hung in the air, floating somewhere between where Husker had perched himself atop the ladder and where Clover stood holding it steadfast beneath him. After a long moment of looking down on her with an unreadable mask of indifference, Husker swept a handful of faux spiderwebs and streamers from the ceiling.
"I'm not his keeper."
"I know, I just- I'm worried about him. He looked kind of…Sick, before he left last night."
The ladder shook as Husker froze halfway down, the tangle of thread and crepe paper fluttering just out of the reach of the sack she'd been catching it all in. Husker's claws tapped sharply on the ladder twice as he thought, and then he hopped down the remaining runs with a huff.
"He'll be fine, don't worry about it."
"But what if he needs help?"
"Look, sweetheart,-I know you're worried about your boyfriend, but take it easy, 'kay? Al's just dealin' with, uh- Somethin' private and he'll be back before ya' know it."
"So you did talk to him."
The sour notes to her tone weren't entirely on purpose, but they twisted Husker's scowl even further downward anyway.
"No, I've just been stuck with 'em long enough to know a couple'a somethings when it matters."
There was indeed something there, just one something, but it was enough to cock Clover's head to one side as she tried to read her friend's expression. Something told her that there was more not being said than the simple avoidance of last night's catastrophe in conversation, and Husker was the last person she was going to be able to shake down for information. Somehow she knew that simply attempting to know the information would be unsuccessful due to its layers of interested parties to see through, and somewhere beneath her want to know what the hell was going on she knew that simply being handed the answer would be unsatisfying.
Sometimes, she really hated having a moral compass, as crooked as it had become.
The door swung open with momentum that knocked it into the wall behind it and rattled the sole umbrella in its holder. All heads turned as Cyrus barrelled into the room, scrambling to close the door behind him and hissing apologies along the way.
"You're gonna wanna s-s-see this," A newspaper was tossed onto the freshly polished countertop of the bar as Cyrus slid onto a stool, not bothering to put out his cigarette as he waved a hand toward the paper. "Ya' got a double feature, full front page, and a centerfold."
Taking the cup of coffee that was handed to her, Clover leaned in to see what twisted tale the media circus was trying to tell this time. At least half of the front page of the paper was taken up by a photograph of the Vees from last night set beneath the glaring bold of the title,
"? ﾝﾕﾖ'? ﾝﾕﾖ ? ﾝﾕﾝ? ? ﾝﾕﾒ? ℍ? ﾝﾕﾣ?!"
The image brought back that sticky feeling that she'd scrubbed her skin raw to get rid of, Valentino's hands gripping his cane in a way that felt intimately violent to her memory and Vox's smile twisted as he looked directly into the lens. The photo appeared to have been taken just inside the hotel's open doors by a proper camera, the flash visible in Valentino's glasses and Vox's display, and that was made even more glaringly obvious by the second picture that had been inset into the article. This photograph was grainy, its colors flat, and that combined with the portrait-mode aspect ratio made it obvious to Clover that it was a cell phone snapshot, brightened to be visible in print. It was with a small sense of pride that she was able to critique the quality of it without falling to pieces at the subject matter.
"They couldn't have gotten a better photo of me?" Clover mumbled, letting the condensation of her drink drip down her wrists and drop onto Velvette's newsprint likeness as she leaned in. "Or written a better title?"
"You gonna go tell Vox how to run his-s-s business now?"
"Maybe."
Cyrus snickered as Clover squinted down at the paragraph curved around the inserted photo of her and Angel, her lip curling at the lackluster excuse for journalism that lauded their costume coordination and speculated on what this might mean for Hell's sweetheart harlot and the "thriving new arrival" with no mention of the theatrics that followed the Vee's arrival. Flipping to the center spread of the paper she was met with another set of paparazzi-style photographs, and her distaste at the unwanted publicity was only briefly placated by the fact that at least these photos were of better quality. She and Alastor were shown in absolute clarity, every detail of their intimate proximity visible as they stood against the bar. No, these photos didn't appear to have been taken on a flip phone, but was that really better? Clover wasn't quite sure; Seeing every dip Alastor's fingers pushed into her skin brought back feelings she'd been chasing away all morning, but the knowledge that this moment was now on display for every sinner to see and savor churned the contents of her stomach. It was an especially upsetting sight when it was juxtaposed with a pushed-in photograph of her standing in nearly the same spot at the bar much later in the evening, alone and distraught. This title was only marginally better than the last, but the attempt at humor fell flat when paired with the poorly executed deckhead.
"? ﾝﾕﾣ? ﾝﾕﾦ? ﾝﾕﾝ? ? ﾝﾕﾟ ℙ? ﾝﾕﾣ? ﾝﾕﾕ? ﾝﾕﾤ? ? ﾝﾕﾠ? ﾝﾕﾥ?"
"Runaway Radio Demon leaves lover high and dry at Hotel Halloween party!"
Clover sighed as she chewed at her straw and scanned the rest of the paper for any mention of her confrontation with Vox and Valentino, but the only conflict of interest to the reporter was the whirlwind showcase of her "secret relationship" with Alastor. Speculation of her upset near the end of the night being the result of a broken heart made her snort and blow bubbles into her drink.
"I'm not surprised there's nothing about everything else that happened, but I am a bit disappointed."
"I would pay good money to see you knock in that son of a bitch's teeth again," Husker chuckled as he took the paper that was slid across the counter towards him. "But I bet Vox is keepin' that shit under wraps, Valentino's dick might disappear with that hit to his ego."
"Pun intended?"
"You know it."
"I heard people talkin' about it on the way over here, the s-s-secrets spreading s-s-someh-Hey!"
Cyrus's cigarette was crushed into an empty plate by Vaggie as she joined them at the bar, and Charlie piped up into the conversation before he could complain much more about it.
"I know something about that! I saw it last night before we went to bed, and I saved it to show it to Vaggie, but it disappeared! And then-"
"And then I saw it on Voxtube a couple of hours ago, and now that's gone too." Vaggie finished, pulling out her phone and quickly scrolling through social media. "There's a couple of photos of you and Vox up right now but if the comments are right, things are being taken down left and right."
"Pathetic." Clover set down her coffee to gesture for her phone, continuing to talk as Husker leaned over the bar to unplug it from its place still attached to the speaker system. "So what, Vox wants to keep the spotlight on me to try and save face? He's a coward."
"It was bad enough that both'a the Vee's big businesses were blown out in the last couple of months, those boys-s-s won't look so tough with'a girl walkin' all over them."
"What is that supposed to mean?"
The banter that began between Cyrus and Vaggie faded into nothing more than background static as Clover opened her phone. Keeping in mind the quickly draining battery, she frantically began to scroll through Sinstagram with the hopes that she would be able to catch the clip before it was taken down again. With a few deep dives down obscure hashtags and diversions into the stories of interested parties, she found it. The video was oddly steady for such a chaotic moment and taken from an angle too close to the action to be a mere bystander, but Clover put aside her assumptions and quickly screen-recorded the looping, fifteen-second clip for safekeeping, making sure to take a few screenshots just for good measure. The clip cut just as Cyrus grabbed her to throw her out of the way of Valentino's backlash, and the single frame of her friends rushing to put themselves between them sparked an idea.
Clover was no expert in PR but she was known to be petty on occasion, and this seemed like a perfect time to tap into that part of her personality.
"Hey, everyone smile."
A moment of confusion followed her command as Clover turned her back to her friends and raised her camera high, making sure to turn it to capture them all in one image. Charlie instantly snapped into a smile, throwing her arms around Vaggie and Cyrus mid-argument to catch their attention. Husker grumbled but did as he was asked, and even Niffty bounced up on her toes to wave from the background, broom in hand. Clover smiled wide and snapped the picture before any of them lost their momentum, hitting the capture in quick bursts just in case, and turned to her friends once she was satisfied.
"Can you all send me any photos you might have taken last night? I have an idea," Picking up her coffee again, Clover smiled at the ring of condensation bleeding the words of the newsprint. "Is it okay if I duck out of the rest of the cleaning? My phone's dying and-"
"No problem! You take all the time you need, no explanation needed."
Charlie's interruption received nods from the rest of her friends, all except Cyrus, whose confused expression shifted into something more stern as Clover began to head upstairs with a wince and shook off Husker's offer for help. His brow rose when she caught his hand on her way past, squeezing his scaled fingers between her own as she shook her nearly empty cup at her side.
"Thanks for the coffee, Cy."
The small smile he gave her was enough to assure her that the message had been received, and Cyrus squeezed back before dropping her to retrieve his cigarettes from his pocket. He placed a fresh one between his teeth, his words mumbled around it as he spoke.
"Take the week off, sweetheart. You call me when you're ready to come back to work."
Clover spent much of the rest of the day by herself, her solitude only broken by Angel and Lollie when they popped in to say hello once they'd woken up and when Charlie had made sure she was properly fed at dinner time. Angel had lingered with her while she carefully crafted the only counter move she could come up with, watching as she fixed the photos that had been sent her way by the rest of the hotel staff and fussed over her caption. In the end, her project was nothing special, but it was the least she could do without Alastor at her side.
What would Alastor have done? Clover wondered.
Pushing through the fluttering in her chest as her thoughts returned to him again, Clover proudly posted her tiny revenge against the Vees to the hotel's social media page. A collection of photos of the night before scrolled across her screen above a lighthearted but pointed caption; The staff smiling and having fun together, their respective costumes with witty one-liners edited across the image, a couple of photos Charlie had taken during set-up, they were all bookended by the photo she'd captured this morning and the stolen snapshot of her and Alastor at the bar.
hotel_mangement Clean-up is more fun with friends! What a night, we hope to see you again soon! #happyhalloween #HappyHotel #HazbinHotel #HazbinHalloweenParty #LetsMisbehave #halloween #spookyseason #specialguests angie_fluffy_boots bombingbichbabe thegirlwiththecamera bar_cat75 babyfeatherdustr
A similar post was made on her account with photos of her costume, a couple of pictures Angel had snapped of them while getting ready, and a single photo of her collapsed into her pillow, her face half hidden behind a cheeky peace sign. There were no tags, and the caption simply read,
thegirlwiththecamera Last night was a hit!
With that minor distraction out of the way and Angel leaving her to rest, Clover's thoughts returned to Alastor. She couldn't simply ignore the oddness that surrounded this particular disappearance of his, but perhaps Husker was right. It was usually better to wait Alastor out on things, both to avoid his temper and to maintain the balance of the trust they'd put in each other, but this time that didn't feel like the satisfying form of action. There was a restlessness to her, her clothes feeling too tight and her skin too warm as she mulled over everything she'd come to know about the man that was Alastor. Eventually, her eyes were too heavy to stay open, turning her unfocused staring at her ceiling into a wash of shadows as her eyelids fell closed and she succumbed to sleep's seduction.
When Clover awoke again, it was into the same darkness that had dragged her into the depths of desire. Her chest heaved as she attempted to slow her breathing, her skin buzzing with the phantom claws that had dragged across it in a mess of sheets. The dark was the perfect backdrop for the continued projection of her dreams, the images of her legs wrapped around sharp hips and hands gripping into her thighs as tension built between them flickering across the walls of her bedroom in a metaphoric adult arcade mutoscope. Clover pressed her palms to her eyes to fend off the embarrassing remnants of her fantasies, but the red hue that blossomed behind her eyes only worsened the heat beneath her skin.
The light clicked on like a flash bomb, banishing the shadows of her bedroom to shrink behind chairs and dressers as she ripped her shirt over her head and kicked back her covers. Every nerve in her body felt like fire, flames licking at the more sensitive sections of her skin with every shift of her legs, and it all culminated in a whine that threatened to spill from her throat as she attempted to rub the feeling of Alastor's skin from her own with a frantic ringing of hands. It was useless, every touch reminded her of his own, and finally, Clover did the one thing she thought might rid her of this lonely nightmare of need;
She flopped back onto her bed, pulled the pillow over her head, and screamed.
Her chest ached as she pushed every bit of air from her lungs, letting her legs flail in the hopes that her tantrum would release at least a little of the tension pulling her body taut. When she sat up again, her breathing had normalized from the pleading pants that had threatened to spill sounds from her lips and her body was heavy with exhaustion that sleep could not heal, but her restlessness remained. When pacing her bedroom did little to wear her out again Clover found herself pulling a nightdress from her dresser drawer, biting back the sigh that shook her as the silk slid against her skin and fetching her phone for its flashlight before stepping out into the dark hallway. She didn't know what time it was, but the faint snoring from Husker's second-floor bedroom in the otherwise silent Hotel hinted that they'd shifted into the early hours of the next morning.
Wandering the halls alone might have frightened her once, but now she was thankful for the breeze that blew through the library's once-broken windows and the safe shelter of darkness that surrounded her. The only downfall to this late-night stroll was that there wasn't anyone to share it with, and the empty silence that came with her solitude. Once she'd pulled herself away from the library with a final touch of her palm against the battered radio that lived there, Clover made her careful way down the stairs.
It's on the first landing that she pauses, her ears twisting towards a noise that carries up the stairs from the bottom floor. Here Husker's snoring is louder, layering over the distant sounds of the city that come from the streets outside but even above the noise Clover can hear the familiar sound of a radio's static. It pulls her to the kitchen, Clover's hands pressing heavily into the countertop as she comes to a stop in front of the red kitchen radio and whispers into the lonely room.
"Alastor?"
The radio stutters through broken sounds as it shifts through frequencies, catching seconds of speech until it finally finds the proper broadcast with a fizzle of static.
"Stars shining bright above you, night breezes seem to whisper "̸̢̭̣̲̞̲̭͌̃̏͑̍̔̋̒͆͊̏́ͅĮ̶̡̡̡̫͙͈̭̳̠̻̣͔͙̱̆͊̇͘͘͜͜ ̶̢̮̝̬̗̖͔͎̥͔̋̅̊̀͌̂̒͝ͅl̷̡̡̛̥̟͖̞̭̠̣̮̣̋̓̀̈́̈́̐̉͐̄͝o̶̢̨̧̗͉͔̖̮̜̓̋͐̈́̂̅̃́̐̕͝v̸̼̟̜̖̀̌̈͗̒͐͛̆͒̈́͆̎̂e̴̼͖̗͇̯̝̲͖͂͐̅̏͊̊̂̔̌̾͜͝͝ͅͅ ̷͇̗̌̄̅̂̐͆͐͑̔́̈́̔̈́̕̚̕͝͝y̴̛͓͉̆̊̾͑̈̅̄̕͝ŏ̴̱̗̫̪̬̲̩̤̦̰̊͒̅̚͜u̸͍̜̭̍͑́͑͋͘̕͘͝"̶͚͓̝̱̗̄͐̅̐
Birds singin' in the sycamore trees, dream a little dream of me…"
Clover felt the ground swim beneath her as her heart skipped at the sound. Her fingers reached out to trace the grooves of the radio dials as the song continued to play, timidly turning up the volume to hear the sounds layered behind the melody. The wet sounds of flesh became clear beneath the music, the sharp sting of a knife clattering against the table peaking the sound with a screech that echoed into the kitchen behind her. Slaughter and song consumed her as she found herself leaning into the radio, pulling it from its place resting against the wall to the edge of the countertop as it continued to play.
"Say "Night-ie night" and k̸͇̙͇̃̍í̶̝͖̀ś̸͍̺̉s̶̯͗ me, just hold me tight and tell me you'll miss me…
̉͝While I'm alone and blue as can be, dream a little dream of me…"
The soft, static-laced breath that came through the radio's transmission was enough to push Clover to pull the radio's cord from the socket and tuck it beneath her arm. It continued to play as she carried it up the stairs, Clover turning down the volume uselessly and clutching it to her chest to muffle the sound until she'd made it safely back to her room. Curling back into bed and placing the radio on the pillow occupying the other side of the bed after plugging it in, just in case, Clover listened. She listened to the soft sounds of the Radio Demon breathing beside her, the sound labored and broken with static as he tore apart whatever tainted soul had crossed him tonight. Those bloody background noises faded with time, coming fewer and farther between as the movements grew sloppy, lacking the conviction and rhythm that they had held before. After a while, all that remained was the soft, sweet melody that lulled her to sleep, and the song that played alongside it.
"Stars fading but I linger on, dear, still craving your k̸͇̙͇̃̍í̶̝͖̀ś̸͍̺̉s̶̯͗
I'm longing to linger 'til dawn, dear, just saying this…
Sweet dreams 'til sunbeams find you, sweet dreams that leave all worries behind you…
But in your dreams, whatever they be, dream a little dream of me…"
Hey! Author here! Thank everyone who reads on this site so much for being here, I love ya'lls reviews even if I am so much less active on this site! Reminder that I have a discord and also cross post on AO3, which has links to playlists and art! Hope you enjoyed this chapter!