Once word had gotten out that the Radio Demon and his lover had rejoined society, the chaos had begun again. The very first morning back at the cafe had been hectic; Clover had barely been able to slink between the demons crowding the front door, even with Cyrus's wide shoulders and foul mouth carving parting a path for her, and there was a photo of her in her lazy opening shift sweatshirt up online before she'd even set down her bag. They'd performed their morning tasks for an audience under a silent agreement signed in smoke that today, their services were only available between the hours of "When" and "Ever".
When they'd finally decided to open the doors, much of the crowd had dispersed into the mid-morning mist that clung to the city's streets, and the rest remained huddled under the sun-bleached awnings that covered the minor amount of outside seating. Cyrus took his time strolling over to unlock it, twirling his keys around his fingers while he paused to take a long drag of their second joint of the morning and squint up at the sky from the warm safety of the entryway. The roll of paper hung loosely from between his teeth as he turned the lock and stuck his head out the door.
"Are you all really this-s-s fuckin' bored?" Ashes drifted to the concrete as he looked over the remaining collection of customers before hissing between his teeth. "Take out only, get in and get the fuck out."
And they did just that; Every person had come and gone by lunch, having satisfied their urges by staring at Clover while she made their coffee and attempting to start conversations she quickly shot down with a customer service smile. The next day was similar, just slightly less stressful now that the papers had begun to shift towards more pressing news and the curious masses had taken their fill of her. Cyrus still seemed reluctant to open the meager amount of seating in the cafe, not wanting to deal with lollygaggers or creeps crowding the space for more lucrative customers, but a long lunch and one more of many joints shared between them seemed to soothe the foul mood the recent turn of events had cast over him.
"I have an Americano for Travis!"
The slouching owl demon shuffled from where he'd been reading a newspaper in the far corner of the room, tossing the rumpled gossip rag onto the handoff plane in exchange for the steaming cup of espresso. Cyrus slunk through the door before it had the chance to swing shut behind the cabbie, cigarette stuck between his teeth as he hoisted the box he carried onto the top of the pastry case and hopped the swinging door that led behind the bar.
"What's that?" Clover asked from inside the fridge, shifting the many cartons of milk back into their proper place after the chaos that had been her solo post-lunch rush.
Claws pinched at her sides, signaling her to tap out and earning Cyrus a half-hearted swat as he took his place behind the bar.
"Coffee, it wasn't done roas-s-sting when I checked this morning. We wouldn't make it through the s-s-second half of the month at this rate without a little extra."
A sinking feeling stuck Clover to her spot, her feet feeling much like lead as something about what Cyrus said stuck out among the monotony of cafe life. Her eyes shifted to the paper spread out across the counter, its ink beginning to bleed from the leftover condensation and its centerfold slowly slipping toward the floor. It crinkled and tore as she pulled it towards her, but she didn't really care; All she needed was the date printed on the front page, the numbers sandwiched somewhere between its glaring headline and the feature image.
"Oh."
"What?" The leftover smoke of Cyrus's cigarette curled around his fingers as he reached around her to shake the paper straight so he could squint at its contents. "S-s-sad your fifteen minutes of fame are over already? Don't get used to it Cloves, news changes fast down here. I'm sure you n' your s-s-sweetheart will be hot gossip again before ya know it."
Cyrus hardly winced at the elbow she sent into his ribcage, and Clover only just managed to dodge the puff of smoke it sent her way as he snickered.
"No, it's not that, it's just-" Clover bit her tongue, feeling a bit silly at how emotional something that had always seemed so insignificant to her was making her now when it mattered so much less. "It's my birthday."
There was dead silence then, and when Clover turned to look up Cyrus beside her, she found him staring dumbstruck down at the paper that drooped between his fingers. He was startled when the door swung open and smacked into the wall, the overheard bell clanging as it struggled to signal the arrival of a new customer. His gaze shifted towards Clover, both sets of eyelids blinking slowly at her before he wiped away the flickering emotion that brightened narrow eyes with a swipe of his claws across his face.
"Can you, uh-" Cyrus began, pausing to stare emptily at the phone he'd pulled from his pocket before he nudged her towards the cash register. "Grab this last customer for me before you go on your break?"
"Sure- Are you okay?"
His boots squealed against the freshly mopped floor as he turned to lean against the counter, clawed fingers tapping away on his cell phone. Clover was vaguely aware of the frantic buzzing rattling the plastic against his scales, but Cyrus gave her little time to question why his normally silent social life was suddenly so explosive.
"Me? Yeah, fine, I just- I gotta handle s-s-something real quick."
Shrugging it off as something to do with Cyrus's more lucrative business practices, she queued up her shots for her lunch-break beverage and slid over to take the waiting customer before they became more agitated- But instead of the snappy boomer looking for their late afternoon fix that she'd expected, she found a familiarly annoyed face waiting for her.
"Hi, Blitz'." Clover instantly reached for an iced cup, and scrawled his name across the top before looking expectantly at the imp currently leaning against her clean countertop. "Do you want the usual or have you come up with something new?"
"Where the fuck were you? I had to go to Greed for a decent cup of coffee!"
Blitzø's volume pushed Clover's ears back against her skull, but she couldn't help but let a smile slip at his selfish show of concern that only grew wider as her sarcastic comeback caused his eyes to roll.
"I took some time off, needed a little break from your bullshit," A quick tap to the rim of the cup in her hands punctuated her next question; As much as she'd come to like, even enjoy the loud-mouthed hellborn she'd saved from Cyrus's endless boredom, she'd be lying if she said she preferred talking to him over curing the gnawing hunger in her stomach with an absurd amount of sugar and flakey pastries. "So the usual, or-?"
"I told you I didn't fire her."
Cyrus interrupted, and then cursed when the hard soles of Clover's new shiny red shoes made contact with his shin before skittering off to the backroom with a hiss that ended just in time for him to pick up whatever call he'd been waiting on. The two remaining souls in the cafe looked at each other, then at the door as it swung closed, and then back at each other again as Clover clicked her pen twice and began to rattle off an order she'd made too many times to count.
"Ice quad latte, two pumps caramel, two pumps toffee nut, salted caramel cold foam, extra caramel drizzle, and whipped cream?"
"Yeah, sure, whatever." Blitzø lazily waved a hand in her direction before fishing a waded twenty bucks from his pocket and slapping it onto the counter between them. He kept up with her as she quickly queued up his shots and pumped his mixture of syrups, horns peeking out just above the shiny top of the espresso machine as he paced back and forth in front of it while she made his change. "Glad you're back, spice girl. Daddy's been running on that fucker's watered-down bullshit for two weeks and he could use a pick me up."
The coffee and his change landed on the hand-off plane, Clover reaching over to pick up a straw for him before handing it to him with a small smile.
"Sorry to hear you're having a hard time."
"Yeah, well I-" The words drifted off as his eyes landed on the damp, crinkled newspaper that she'd yet to clean from the countertop, yellow eyes darting over the front page feature. Clover followed his gaze, finally taking in the paper's contents, and found that the headlines told of the dramatic public resignation of Greed's sweetheart, Fizzarolli; When she looked back to Blitzø, she found a smile softening the normally sarcastic tilt to his grin. "I guess it's not that bad."
With a sharp cough, he stabbed his straw into his five-dollar coffee, took a long sip, and shoved the stack of cash she'd given back to him toward her with far gentler hands than she'd expected.
"Keep the change."
Clover blinked, looking between the generous tip and the back of a bloodied coat before she finally managed to call out before the door could close behind him.
"Thank you!"
Once the shop had been closed for the night, Cyrus insisted on walking her home despite the Shadow's steps that trailed hot on their heels. Clover thought nothing of it, already weighed down with the leftover pastries from the day and the bottles of nearly-expired syrups that she'd saved from being trashed during their evening breakdown of the bar. Her bag had been taken by the Shadow, its situationally solid form holding the paper handles daintily between its claws to allow Clover to continue to sip on her after-work treat while holding the cardboard carrier she'd filled with leftover cold brew, and a single steaming coffee, swirled with spices.
They'd swung by Cyrus's place on the way home under the excuse that he'd promised to let Lollie borrow an old record, and she'd been left to shiver outside the double-locked door of the old brick building to wait on him; Perhaps wearing knit knee highs with her skirt had not been the best choice this late into the season.
She'd always assumed that Cyrus had lived in the middle ground between the newer expanses of the city and the dated doors of the Colony, but she would have never even noticed the indented entrance to the apartment building if he'd not pointed it out to her. The area was nice, just a block or two away from the cafe and its proximity to the entrance to the Cannibal Colony while still feeling at the latest mid-20th century, with the dated architecture of early Americana clashing against the bright colors and faded pink pastels of the late 50's. Clover would have sworn they'd passed what seemed to be a crumbling stone church set in the gaps between a refurbished Baroque-style building that could have been anything other than the living quarters it appeared to be.
All in all, it didn't seem like the worst place to live, as low as the standards of hell were.
A loud thud echoed down the city streets, only outshone by the high-pitched shriek Clover let out as Cyrus dropped from the fire escape above her. He laughed at the frantic waving of hands she aimed at his shoulder, shrugging away from her assault to light up another joint before he heaved his now more burdened bag higher up on his back and began walking back in the direction of the hotel.
When they arrived, the hotel's lobby was uncharacteristically dim for the early evening hours. The Shadow beat Cyrus to Clover's coat, its dusky claws hanging it neatly on the rack before darting off into the darkness beyond the light streaming in the open door. A form reappeared in front of the stained windows just behind the bar, blocking the limited amount of light for a moment before the shadows found stillness.
"This is weird…"
"Sure fuckin' is," Cyrus grumbled as he shrugged out of his duster and took the drink from Clover's unsteady hands, ignoring her huff of complaint as he set it down on a table half shrouded in shadow. "It's not like I gave 'em extra time or anything."
"What-"
Clover's question was cut short by a radio hum, the low tones rolling down her spine as her head turned just in time to watch the warm glow of eyes appear in the darkness before the chandelier burst to life above them.
"Surprise!"
Color swam in her vision as Clover startled at the sudden shouting, her feet leaving the floor momentarily and her ears pressing flat against her skull. She blinked through the blur in her vision, and found an unexpected sight; Her friends gathered in front of the hotel bar, waiting with varying expressions of expectation beneath a large hand-painted sign that had Charlie written all over it. Angel and Niffty seemed the most enthused to be there, each of their heads topped with party hats and their lips wrapped around tiny horns, which Angel continued to blow in an almost-correct rendition of the studio credit that was slotted before the many movies they'd watched together. Between them was Husk, leaning lazily against the bar despite the sarcastic grin he'd probably put on to please Vaggie, who was slowly growing more agitated as Angel continued to toot his own horn. The princess grinned at the center of them all, arms tossed upwards towards the banner as lingering confetti fluttered to the floor at their feet. The "Happy Birthday!" in bold, brightly colored block letters brought it all together, and Clover felt her skin begin to burn as realization set it.
"I'm going to fucking kill you," Clover managed to mumble to Cyrus when he shoved his shoulder into hers, but her glare did little more but widen his grin and quicken his pace as he steered her toward the waiting party. It took all of her will not to hit him for a third time today, but she decided that playing nice was maybe the best course of action to get out of this embarrassing situation, so she slapped a smile on her face instead. "Wow! This is- A lot. You guys didn't have to do all of this."
"We didn't have to, but we wanted to! I know it doesn't really mean the same thing now that you've passed on, but everyone deserves a birthday party!" Charlie said.
"And cake!" Niffty added from her spot sitting on the bar.
"Well, thank y-"
Charlie barely gave her time to respond before she pulled Clover into a bone-crushing hug, leaving her arms flailing helplessly at her sides as her shoes left the floor. Her brief moment of captivity was taken advantage of as a heavy hand dropped onto her head, flopping her ears into her face and ruffling her hair in an oddly fatherly display of affection.
"And we deserve a chance to drive you crazy every once in a while," Husk chuckled at the scowl she sent over Charlie's shoulder once she was set down, retracting his hand from her to tip his drink in her direction. "Means you're part of the family or somethin'."
"Or something indeed!"
The sudden amplified addition had her heart stuttering, though this time it was less from the shock of the sound itself and more the anticipation of who it heralded. Clover turned towards the source of the noise so quickly she nearly tripped over her own two feet, but found no one standing where the radio broadcast had come from. Her eyes were quickly drawn downward as a dark swirl of shadows slunk across the carpet towards her, dodging the many feet in its way before darting between her feet. A chill ran up her spine as the Radio Demon's cheerful voice echoed from every corner of the room, his frequency shifting until its interference faded away.
"I assume that you're as opposed to surprises as I am, and even though I am a man of few vices, the worst of them may be my partiality to a good bit of revelry- Even more so when the cause is as charming as this!"
Red filled her vision as she turned to find Alastor standing at her shoulder, his sharp smile softening ever so slightly as she met his eye. There was an awkwardness about him that tensed his shoulders, pulling them back further than necessary as his head tilted to one side at an impossible angle, and for all the time she spent staring up at him, she didn't think he took a single breath. Something hung in the air between them, an unspoken question whose answer the room fell silent in preparation for- Then his radio stuttered as Alastor's eyes shifted to her lips, and the unease that had overcome her at the sudden spotlight melted into utter endearment. Static rippled through him as she placed a hand on his shoulder and rose onto her toes, but to both her surprise and delight, he met her halfway. The kiss was quick, a simple, sweet greeting after the day spent apart that was cut even shorter by the loud "Aw!" that came from Charlie. Alastor's ears flattened sheepishly onto his skull and his eyes darted to the floor as the noise was echoed by his radio, but he recovered far quicker than Clover, who'd been startled into stillness as a deep pink burned its way across her cheeks.
A firm hand found its way into the small of her back as he began to shepherd her towards the bar, and Charlie bounced along behind them, bits of confetti falling from her hair with every step.
"We have a cake for after dinner, but first- Presents!" The princess shouted with a spin that stopped with her arms thrown out towards the collection of boxes and bags sitting on the bar.
"None of you had to get me anything-" Clover tried her best to keep her reluctance out of her voice, if only for the sake of not upsetting her. "The thought is what counts."
"I'm afraid there's no getting out of this one, cher. Charlotte insisted." Alastor said as he leaned close to lay his microphone against the bar, and then continued with full transatlantic splendor.
"Sadly, this turn of affairs has caught us all quite unawares, as some of us did not receive the memo in a timely manner," Clover noticed the sharp look sent in Cyrus's direction, but she did her best to ignore it; Not that she had much of a choice when Alastor's claws so quickly tapped under her chin to turn her attention back to him, his head cocking adorably to one side. "I apologize in advance for my lack of proper gift on my part. But considering these unfortunate circumstances, I must insist you open my preliminary present last, and forgive me for the time it may take me to place the finishing touches on the rest."
"Al, it's fine, you don't have t-"
Her arguments ended in a squeal as he took her hand and twirled her, her feet fumbling to find themselves under her once she'd stopped. Thankfully, the bar was there to catch her as she tumbled forward, and her hands hit its top with a loud "smack" that echoed through his radio with far too much reverberation to be accidental. Her knees buckled against the barstool when Alastor shifted closer, his breath blowing hot across the back of her neck as he leaned down into her ear, and she'd have hit the floor if not for the hands that took her gently by the waist. Static rose and fell as his stations switched rapidly, hiding his heavy exhale behind its chaos as his microphone shut off with a hollow click. She was thankful he'd turned her back to the rest of her friends, not wanting them to see how his lips brushed her skin as he spoke softly against it.
"Perhaps I could present them over that dinner I've promised- This Friday if you're not otherwise occupied? I believe my gifts are better given in private if it's all the same to you."
Clover sputtered at how bold he was being, the sudden shift sending her head spinning; The idea of a kiss hello seemed to shake him to the core just moments ago, and now he was proudly toying with her, the smile in his voice sinking under the weight of its hopefulness and tainting the innocent suggestion with its sinful sound. As always, Alastor was full of surprises-
And Clover was not complaining.
The warmth of him disappeared at the nod of her head, Alastor leaning against the bar beside her like he hadn't just flirted with her in a vaguely public setting as his radio rushed through garbled frequencies before it picked up a cheerful ragtime played far too loud to be appropriate for their intimate gathering. When she dared to look at him again she found him sporting his trademark Radio Demon grin, his fingers impatiently tapping on the bartop while he awaited her next move; And when she stalled for a second too long, that smile dropped at one corner, and Alastor's radio lowered just enough for his voice to echo over top of it's accompaniment.
"Well? What are you waiting for?"
Blowing the stray hairs from her face with a sarcastic huff, Clover swallowed hard in an attempt to untie her tongue in case anyone felt brave enough to question Alastor's display and reached for the present closest to her.
"Wait! Not that one!"
Her hands froze, hovering just shy of sparkling tissue paper as she turned to look wide-eyed at Angel's sudden shouting. The bag was quickly shifted away from the main pile of gifts to be hidden behind the bar, and Angel scooted another pastel present in her direction with a sheepish smile.
"You're not gonna wanna show those goods off to the stiffs, toots, save that one for lata'- Open that one first. It's from me n' the short stack."
"Where is Lollie anyway? Don't tell me she's in the cake."
Clover could feel the confusion in the frequency Alastor broadcast behind her as the other three men in the room all snorted at the comment, Husk's shoulders shaking with barely held-back laughter as he slipped behind the bar and one of Angel's many hands clapping against the counter as he cackled.
"Hah! As much as she woulda' loved that, she just can't be here- Work stuff, ya know?"
Beneath the present's pretty wrapping paper was a rather large box whose contents shifted when tilted, and inside was a mad mix of things that could only come from the combined minds of the sauciest of her two friends; A fluffy stuffed rabbit, a bottle of perfume with an intricate golden cap, an expensive-looking body oil targeted to demons of the fuzzy variety, a leatherbound copy of "Alice in Wonderland", a coffee mug shaped like a camera lens, sweet-smelling candles, and DVD copies of some of the many movies she'd shown Angel since they'd met were only some of the many, many objects they'd packed into a single box. Clover ignored the more suspicious-looking bottles and fur-lined hardware they'd hidden among the innocent, knowing Angel would most likely be knocking at her door after the festivities to explain to her the finer points of their uses after bullying her into opening his other gift- For now, she reached out for his hand and gave it a steady squeeze while whispering a thank you that widened his already brilliant smile.
The next gift came from Cyrus, who unceremoniously dropped his backpack onto the bar next to her and reached inside. He pulled out a woolen sweater, worn soft from years of wear and striped with muted tones ranging from misty green to plum, and handed it to her without a word. As Clover went to get a better look at it, she found a small leather bag weighing down one sleeve- She didn't have to look at him to know what it was, the thick scent of marijuana mixed with lavender already permeating the air around it and Clover quickly refolded the sweater so it could be set aside before anyone caught wind of the secrets it held.
"It ain't much, but I was with ya' all day, s-s-so… Anyway, it'll look better on you than it ever did on me." Cyrus said as he dropped his backpack at his feet before awkwardly leaning over the barstool between them to give her a one-armed hug that brewed static in the broadcast that played in the background.
"It's great Cyrus, I like it a lot. Nothing wrong with a regift, especially when it's a vintage shared between friends."
Static continued to ripple across the radio's backtrack as Niffty quickly clambered over Alastor's lean frame to push the neatest present of the bunch into Clover's arms, her poodle skirt swinging wildly as she hopped from foot to foot in front of them.
"Open mine next! Please, please, please!"
Niffty had made her an apron, its top half cleanly cut and sewn to be the shape of a heart to match her ears and its bottom edges lined with perfect little ruffles that Clover didn't dare touch. Its heavy cotton was dyed a bright red, its stitches following a pattern of alternating black and white criss-crossing that seemed incredibly strong while also being aesthetically adorable. Clover had no idea how she had completed this feat of craftsmanship on such short notice, but she wasn't going to start asking questions now; Niffty seemed utterly thrilled at the wide-eyed way she looked over the finer details, and that was all that mattered.
"It's for the next time you cook! So you match Alastor!"
The clarification had drawn a fond chuckle from the red-suited demon beside her, and Clover gave Niffty a quick hug before she scampered aside to make room for Husk's gift. The bottle he retrieved from behind the bar was topped with a lopsided silver bow, and when she looked closer she found that he'd simply scrawled "For Kid, From Husk," on the tiny card attached to it. It was a wine, a sweet red with a label written in a curling cursive that she assumed must have been French from what she could tell as she rolled it between her palms. She'd just been about to put it down when the year caught her eye, the tiny numbers hidden among ink-dipped depictions of flowers, and Clover felt her chest tighten with a somber sort of sentimentality when she realized what he'd done.
Clover's voice wavered when she went to speak, her thumb tracing over the familiar year of her birth as she thought hard about every conversation she and Husk had ever shared.
"How did you–"
"Angel." He said simply, and she felt silly for not thinking of it sooner.
Safely setting the bottle aside and making sure her next move would not jostle anything important, Clover shifted her knees to the barstool and leaned over the counter. Husk's shoulders stiffened as she pulled him into a hug, but he gave in quickly enough and with little complaint, his claws wrapping loosely around her shoulders to hold her steady. A quiet purr she knew he would deny later rumbled from his chest as she gave him another squeeze before settling back into her seat, and for a split second, she swore she saw his eyes glisten, if only slightly.
With only three people left and one having declared his place in the order, Clover looked at the single package left among the presents with mild confusion- Its box was a shiny red leather, and nothing like she would expect from anyone other than Alastor. A tap on her shoulder twisted her around in her seat, Clover's legs narrowly missing catching Charlie in the side from how close she was standing, but the princess didn't seem to notice. Her fingers tapped nervously against the black book she held against her chest, its cover wrapped in criss-cross ribbons and its pages held closed with a latch, until Vaggie placed a gentle hand on Charlie's shoulder; Their gift was handed over jointly, their fingers linking together at their sides as Clover took ownership of it.
The ribbons fell to Clover's feet with a tug of their strings, and KeeKee appeared seconds later, the sparkling gold sprawling across the floor as the tiny hellcat became caught up with them. Air blew noiselessly from Clover's nose at the antics as she unlatched the book closure and flipped it open to the first page to read its dedication;
"? ﾝﾐﾨ? ? ﾝﾐﾥ? ﾝﾐﾯ? ﾝﾐﾫ,
? ﾝﾐﾞ'? ﾝﾐﾞ ? ﾝﾐﾨ ? ﾝﾐﾚ? ﾝﾐﾩ? ? ﾝﾐﾨ ? ﾝﾐﾚ? ﾝﾐﾞ ? ﾝﾐﾨ? ? ﾝﾐﾢ? ﾝﾐﾡ ? ﾝﾐﾬ, ? ﾝﾐﾨ ? ﾝﾐﾚ? ﾝﾐﾭ? ﾝﾐﾫ ? ﾝﾐﾡ? ﾝﾐﾭ ? ﾝﾐﾡ? ? ﾝﾐﾮ? ﾝﾐﾮ? ﾝﾐﾞ ? ﾝﾐﾫ? ﾝﾐﾧ? ﾝﾐﾬ.
? ﾝﾐﾚ? ? ﾝﾐﾡ? ﾝﾐﾬ ? ﾝﾐﾞ ? ? ﾝﾐﾥ? ﾝﾐﾜ? ? ﾝﾐﾨ? ? ﾝﾐﾡ? ? ﾝﾐﾚ? ﾝﾐﾩ? ﾝﾐﾞ? ﾝﾐﾭ ? ﾝﾐﾟ ? ﾝﾐﾞ? ﾝﾐﾨ? ﾝﾐﾢ? ﾝﾐﾬ!"
Guilt wracked Clover's nervous system as she read the sweet message and twisted into her stomach at the hopeful look in Charlie's eye as she turned the page; She'd taken the girls for granted in her time here, and even if she couldn't help how seamlessly she'd slotted herself into everyone else's lives, that didn't make her feel any better about putting Charlie and Vaggie on the backburner. The feeling only got worse as she realized that what she held wasn't just a journal, but a scrapbook. She quickly recognized some of the photographs as ones she'd taken for the hotel, group photos of family dinners and game nights interspersed with collectibles from such events. Clover snorted at the remnants of their murder mystery game from what felt like months ago, the tiny papers they'd all used to keep track of their clues pasted together to provide an interesting backdrop for the photograph she'd not even realized had been taken stuck to the center of the page. From the lack of him in the photo, she assumed Angel had taken it with his incredible height, the still showing all of them sharing cake over the scattered remains of their boardgames; Charlie had been talking excitedly with Lollie about redemption, the princess's smile caught mid-sentence while the tiny temptress across from her winked knowingly up at the camera's lens. The mass of photo manipulation sitting cross-legged beside Charlie couldn't have been anyone else but Alastor, his expression barely visible between bars of color but there nonetheless- Soft eyes peered out from lowered lids to where Clover was pictured sitting across from him, his knuckles pressed against his jaw and his head tilted to listen to whatever conversation she'd been having with Husk at the time.
Charlie's voice lifted Clover's eyes from the page momentarily as she turned it, but the princess didn't mind when her gaze was pulled back to the book so she could continue to flip through it while she talked.
"Sorry if it's a little…Thrown together. We were planning on collecting more stuff for it over the holiday so we could give it to you on your arrival anniversary, as like, a thank you, for everything you've done to help out with the hotel but-"
"But this felt like the right time to give it to you," Vaggie's fingers paused Clover's exploration of the photographs she'd never seen before by tucking under the next few pages and flipping them over to show the photos nestled nearer to the back of the book, and when Clover saw their contents, she knew exactly what Vaggie meant.
Where the rest of the photos had obviously been printed out on specialized paper or perhaps taken to a printer on a USB, the back pages of the book were entirely made up of the polaroids that had been taken the night of the Halloween party. The mystery of where those photos had gone along with her destroyed camera was quickly solved when another turn of the page revealed a tiny envelope glued between a distant photo of her sneaky smoke break in the lobby's far corners and a motion blurred snapshot of Alastor and Clover while they spun across the dancefloor; Inside was the lens to her camera, it's glass cracked but clean as she held it against her palm. Clover quickly tucked it back inside to keep from getting too choked up about the whole thing, but the rest of the book was blank, and provided no distraction from the emotions threatening to burst through the tension this unexpected moment had given her.
Before the tears could fall, a hand stroked softly down the length of her spine, and Alastor's voice cut through the heavy silence that had fallen over them.
"That's quite a lot of space to fill!" He said with full radio splendor, the crackling quality soothing the fragile edges of Clover's nerves just long enough for her to breathe a laugh at his theatrics. Alastor slid in front of her with a wide smile, his microphone sweeping in front of him to make room as he wiggled his way into the conversation. "Hopefully that means you'll get plenty of use out of this."
With a flourish and a flash of green, the lid of the leather case on the bartop beside her snapped open to reveal the box's contents- A sleek square of metal, inset with polished cherry red wood. Clover's suspicions of what it was proved themselves to be true when it snapped open with a simple tug, revealing the camera components hidden inside. The Polaroid was dated farther back than the one she'd initially owned but functioned the same from her memory, just with the added benefit of being able to snap closed for safe transport. Its weight was welcome against the shaking of her hands as she tentatively twisted the knobs set into the top of the camera, watching as the lens narrowed towards her and shrunk back again as a wave of emotion washed over her.
"This is-" Clover whispered, her voice straining against the thickness that settled into her throat. "It's beautiful."
The slight wobble in Alastor's smile straightened at that, and a bouncy, bright tune clicked on from his radio as he held out his hands in an unspoken question that Clover happily answered by placing the device between into his palm.
"And if you ever get tired of those newfangled machines and their temperaments, I'm happy to provide other options!"
Alastor's hand waved in front of the camera, leaving behind a trail of glowing green that curtained the changes he'd made. Instead of the more modern 1970s-style self-printing model he'd initially gifted her he now held an old flash camera, the type that would often be seen in any piece of media attempting to set its period predating the rise of Rock n' Roll, a mostly metal device with a bulky attached flash and roller film. With another flicker of magic, it changed again, and the Polaroid was promptly returned to Clover's waiting hands.
"There's always space for a dark room if you'd like one," Alastor said with a sly little wink that had the embarrassed flush that had finally faded from her skin returning with new flames.
"Does s-s-she even know how to work one'a those old things?"
She could feel the way Alastor's smile twitched at Cyrus's interruption as she pressed a thankful kiss to the corner of his mouth, his soft smile sharpening back to an Overlord's deadly grin as soon as she'd stepped away- This was not happening today, Clover decided. As sweet as this all was, she still wasn't entirely thrilled that she was being fussed over for something that hadn't even occurred to her until midday, and she most certainly wasn't going to let Cyrus stir up trouble; Even if she hadn't wanted a party, it was still hers.
Without another thought, Clover turned the camera on Cyrus, covered the lens with her palm, and clicked the shutter.
"Fuckin-" Cyrus cursed as the flash went off and he flinched backward, the heels of his palms pressing into the sockets of his eyes as he hissed through his next outburst. "I was-s-s just askin'!"
The lid to the camera's case snapped shut with a satisfying click, and Clover turned back to the still-sputtering Cyrus, blacked-out photograph in hand. One of his fangs had caught on his lips in his cursing, pinching into his bottom lip and she was almost upset she hadn't taken an unobscured photo before she remembered that the Cyrus she'd capture would not look like the lizard that was currently flicking his tongue irritably in her direction. Her smart-mouthed reply was set aside as his eyes darted to the black and white square between her fingers, and Clover flipped it to face him before handing it over as a sign of goodwill before returning to her point.
"In theory, yes. It shouldn't be that hard to figure out, most cameras work on the same principles of light and chemical reactions-"
"Don't get her started!" Husk and Angel quickly said, the former with far more humor than what came from the latter as he dramatically sank into the seat beside her.
Behind her, the radio muffled its laughter.
The party moved to the kitchen for dinner soon after, the limits of the tiny breakfast table tested as they all attempted to squeeze in beside each other while Vaggie added the finishing touches to a dish that healed the homesickness that had been hiding in Clover's heart. The initial nerves that had come over her at the sudden shift in focus towards her were drowned by the bourbon-spiked peach lemonade that was served while they'd waited, and the rest were banished by the warm scent of roasting chiles. Cyrus had made fun of Clover for refusing to give up on the coffee she'd taken home with her when presented with a new drink, snickering as she carefully drained the ice from her glass so it would not further water down when stowed it in the fridge for later consumption with cake, but he'd shut up quickly when Clover handed Alastor the coffee she'd brought home for him.
Surprisingly, they'd seemed to get along afterward; Alastor started up a conversation littered with thinly veiled clips at Cyrus's history with Mimzy and Cyrus responded with good humor. They'd talked idly across the table, Alastor's arm stretched across the back of Clover's chair to absentmindedly thumb along the curve of her shoulder and her knee sneakily hooked over his beneath the table to better accommodate her sideways way of sitting. Now that she was halfway through her glass and thoroughly tipsy, Clover's attention drifted between her friends. They'd split off into little bubbles that floated throughout the room, and occasionally they'd collide, melting together for a few moments before they bounced off each other; Vaggie and Charlie chatted while they waited for the oven's broiler to warm while Niffty darted back and forth with plates to set the table, the tiny demoness occasionally cutting into Husker and Angel's quiet conversation, which Clover would turn to listen to when the topic of subject shifted to her interest. She felt as if she was part of all of them but also none at the same time, existing as either an idle onlooker or the air that kept them afloat- Either way, she felt entirely at peace, and warm in a way that she wasn't sure she could entirely blame on the alcohol.
After dinner there was cake, as previously promised.
Clover snorted at the sparkling candles they'd put on top of it, and outright laughed when she realized that Niffty had baked a carrot cake, complete with cream cheese frosting, caramelized walnuts, and a marzipan carrot set below the "Happy Birthday Clover'' that had been piped on top. Shyness returned as Charlie loudly began to sing the stereotypical tune, Clover continuing to aggressively sip on her third glass of lemonade as she shrunk so far into her chair that she nearly slid out of it, leaving only her nose and ears visible over the top of the cake that had been set in front of her- Alastor and Husk's inability to sing along without laughing at her was a minor consolation for her returning embarrassment, at least. Before she'd gotten the chance to blow out her candles and end what was hopefully the last little bit of attention she'd get for the night, Charlie stopped her with a request that Clover, in all honesty, should have seen coming.
"Make a wish!"
That stumped her for a long moment, Clover staring blankly down at her cake while she chewed at her lip in thought; Then she looked around the table, and made a decision that was nearly as silly as it was honest. Cheers rang out as she closed her eyes and blew out her candles, with Angel whistling loudly between his fingers and the radio joining in with canned applause.
"What did you wish for?" Angel asked through a mouthful of cake, its frosting sticking to the edges of his lips as he stuck out his tongue at Vaggie when she chastised him.
"You can't ask that!"
"It's fine, it's already come true anyway."
The radio's soft backdrop melody ended with a record scratch that paused Clover's fork above her plate as she took in the confused expressions scattered around the table. They probably expected her to explain, but Clover felt no reason, so she went on eating her cake and enjoying that she'd managed to stun a whole table of sinners with one sentence. Clover hid her smile behind her fingers as she took another bite, trying her best to swallow it alongside her amusement without choking on the giggles that attempted to escape her.
Cyrus, unsurprisingly, was the first one to grow annoyed with her silence.
"Then why the fuck did you wish for it?"
Clover took Alastor's hand where it rested on the table to her right, tangling their fingers together with purpose as she leaned back to bump her shoulder affectionately into Angel's. She shared a small smile with Alastor, watching as his head cocked curiously to one side in anticipation of her answer.
"Because I don't want anything else."
Her sickly-sweet sentimentalism got a groan from much of the table and a squeal of delight from some of the rest; But when Clover peeked out from between the fingers she'd hidden her face with, she swore she caught Angel and Husk sharing a small smile before they both rolled their eyes and went back for a second slice of cake. The gentle squeeze of her intertwined fingers returned her attention to the soft, bristling static beside her, and Clover turned just in time to catch the wobbly softness of Alastor's smile. Conversation went to chaos soon after, the combination of sugar and hard liquor loosening even the tightest of screws at the lemonade pitcher neared its end. There was no lull in entertainment from Clover's position leaning into Alastor's shoulder, from Charlie getting up to twirl to the music playing from the radio to the wheezing hiss of Cyrus's laugh as Angel attempted to smear frosting onto Husk's fur.
And through it all, Alastor's hand stayed firmly in hers.