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(I'm So Desperate For) Your Sweet Affliction

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Despite it all, Alastor was no stranger to the concept of romance.

 

He remembered, from the time he was alive, his own childhood sweetheart, a petite girl of bright eyes and a cute smile that made his heart flutter excitedly on his ribcage, she had bled so prettily when he had cut her open and carved out her heart. It was still one of his happiest memories, the perfect example of the consummation of love, certainly, what could be more meaningful that cradling between your hands the heart you cherish? There could not be anything with the same intent.

 

Of that, Alastor was sure, because of the rush of intense pleasure, the affection, the determination to take such a leap of faith...

 

Even though, despite his certainty, he couldn't help but wonder what then caused the obvious discrepancies between the showcasing of his tenderness and that of the others couples that surrounded him, perhaps he should not mind it so much, seeing his own distaste for something supposedly fundamental like sex. Meaningless. Disgusting.

 

By the good graces of misery, he could not understand the fixation with it.

 

But alas, that only helped to prove just how much more he knew about the proper ways of acting upon fondness, the proper way of making a lover feel appreciated and cared for. Then why…

 

Why exactly did his methods felt so unsatisfying when he tried to picture them unfurling with the newest victim of his interest?

 

Could it be he was mistaking the detour that was being taken by his emotions?

 

But what else could the incessant affliction to his attentions be? The unyielding need, the voracious yearning?

 

It was love. Of course, how silly to doubt it.

 

Even if he wasn’t sure from where it had taken origin, viciously and seemingly out of nowhere consuming his ability to properly concentrate, putting in jeopardy the balance of his inspiration, affecting him, being a salacious mockery! But oh, so sweet!

 

And perhaps that made its origins something irrelevant, just a secondary effect of his recent project, it was the hotel, after all, the thing that have brought him to spend so much time around the other demon. To notice with exactitude all the minor details that were so captivating about him, how profound was his character aside the drinking and the gambling.

 

Oh, but Alastor was being unfair with his own perceptions, he had noticed just how special the younger male was from the moment they had met. For the cold defiance, the lack of fear, the temper, fierce and unforgiving and that violence, the aggressive tempo of tired annoyance and uncensored hatred ready to be unleashed at the minor sign of ill intent. The nihilistic tendencies, pragmatism incarnated, and the quiet surge of passion from under the ashes of an existence partly drowned by alcohol that never fully numbed the troubled expanses of a sinner weighted by regrets and unresolved tensions. A bundle of simplicity and contradictions.

 

Ah.

 

For being such an expert at gambling, Husk really had the horrid habit of wearing his heart on his sleeve. Then again, little Husker never really actively tried to hide his true feelings, did he?

 

Goodness gracious, no.

 

Be it distaste, contempt, fascination or satisfaction, the cat demon wore every single one of his expressions sultry and freely, blunt and uncaring of whoever was there to see them. Being out of laziness to keep appearance, or lack of care because of genuine disinterest, Alastor could not yet tell. But he found it particularly irritating if not charming in his own way.

 

After all, smiling was a sign of power, and Husk rarely smiled, and despite that, he was no weakling. There was a certain kind of power in that of not caring, of being so apathetic to your surroundings that the idea of displaying a persona was seen as a complete waste, it was authentic, even if not that unique.

 

Still refreshing, in a way. In regard of the origin of the emotions displayed and their intent, which was keeping others from being bothersome in his direction, or not at all, aside from being true to his own experience.

 

The fact that they have fought in the past, with the winged cat not faltering before him, was another proof he had to testify to that power. Upholding his respect, and most likely, paving the way to the surge of this new bundle of feelings.

 

However, there was no remorse or regret when it came down to the being chosen to uphold his affections, there were a few things he would like to change, obviously, for example, the lack of smiles despite all the thought put into it, for a curvature on the lips was such a raw display, and those few he had managed to catch out of the moments of short joy that Husk lived were just so swell, no amount of reasoning or excuses could atone to not seeing more of them.

 

There were other minor details, too, but mostly the lack of interest that the other demon showed him in return. He was well respected but of course, Husk liked few things in his current existence, and Alastor was not really between any of them, he was no gambling or cheap booze, even when he could provide both of those things, but wasn’t that a grummy reason to be put into someone's consideration? And he could do so much better than just mop about it too, perhaps, he needed to make his own attraction be known. A good ol’ fashioned courting needed to get things to move towards his purpose. To ensure he will catch the eye of his little doll as much as he caught his.

 

What could come next was still full of fuzzy propositions and half-finished directions, he could easily cut Husk open and make him bleed oh so prettily for him, he could mark him with his claws and teeth, see him cry and scream and beg, beg for him to reclaim his heart… he could do so much, really, but none of the options felt that fulfilling or all that special. There was something else he wished for, the sweet attentions aside, the tenderness that came from it, he sometimes thought, but shook the notion out more often than not, could it be though?

 

Crave the intimacy he never really wished for, even when alive? All the goofy stuff couples usually do? So vain. The cuddling? The pet names? So ridiculous.

 

Ah, his dearest Husky most truly be messing with him, it mattered not, though, for he would make sense of all the jumbled notions and come to the perfect solution. He was nothing if not efficient and resourceful, after all, and the cat would never know what was lurking in the shadows of his cold and unforgiving indifference until it was far too late to stupidly attempt to escape.

 

As of now, Alastor mussed, he should probably  cut his observation and daydreaming for the evening, the hotel was not going to run itself, and it was risky to have someone catch up to his intentions before he was ready to put them into motion. But soon, soon he was going to be ready.

 

His usual smile became sharper, promising and directed towards the demon idly resting against the countertop of the reception, blatantly ignoring him, but that would change soon, too.