*The Next Morning*

Alastor is the first to wake up. When he rolls onto his side, his arm reaches out and he accidently touches you, which startles him awake.

He was shocked at first, before the memories of last night flood his mind in vase pictures, making him exhale a reassuring breath, sinking back into his pillow.

He can't help but roll his head to see you, still asleep, cuddled close to him still.
You were in a deep slumber, and the last thing he wanted was for you to wake.

After all...you weren't going to feel good when you wake up. From how much you drank last night, you'd have a bad hangover.
And the fact that you'll see him in bed beside you...it might just add more stress on your already stressed heart.

He had considered slipping out of your room before you wake up, that way it spares you the confusion of why exactly he's here.
But deep down...he doesn't move. He's too selfish to move. For he wants you to see him beside you, he wants to see your face when your pretty eyes flutter open and meet his.

Why he wants that...even he himself can't even answer that question.

He exhales a quiet breath, one finger trailing down your arm in a gentle manner.
The touch makes you stir, groaning as your eyes flutter open.

The first thing you see...is Alastor. And his grinning smile on his face.
You freeze for one...two...three seconds, realization piling on you, before ending with you knowing that Alastor is laying beside you right now.

You gasp, pulling the blanket up to your face like a scared child, all of which he giggles at.

"Good morning to you too, my dear."

You lower the blanket just enough for your eyes to see, your breathing heavy and fast.
You can't recall anything that happened last night, all you know is that you must have gotten wasted again, because your head hurt like Hell.

Though pain is the last thing on your mind.

"Wh-what are you doing here?!" You say, before hissing from a wave of pain coursing through your skull.
It hurts so much you grit your teeth. Hangovers. The absolute worst shit to deal with.

A look of concern fills Alastor's eyes, though he tries to hide it with his mask of smiles.

"There now, easy..." Alastor sits up, helping you sit up as well. "I would not move so fast, if I were you."

"Why are you here?" you repeat the question again, "wha-what even happened?"

Alastor chuckles, amused. "A lot happened last night, darling." He looks over at you, smirking almost, as if teasing you.
Your eyes widen, as dread fills your stomach. Or maybe it was the wave of sickness making your stomach churn, for the next thing you know, you leap out of bed, running to the bathroom to puke.

Alastor sits there, hearing your vomiting in the bathroom, as he exhales a soft sigh.

In this moment, he truly feels bad...he believes that everything last night was his fault.
Even though he found it quite entertaining, your drunken self, he would take that night back just so that you weren't leaning over the toilet.

At some point, he rises to his feet, coming to the bathroom doorway and standing there, one hand holding the frame as he watches you vomit.

When you shakily raise your head, you realize at that moment that something was wrapped around you, that your hands were...clutching onto it.

The color red, and the smells of an old cologne mixed with the scent of lemon, makes you realize it.
This is Alastor's coat.

You raise your head fully as you turn to see Alastor standing in the doorway, wearing his long sleeve red shirt with black crosses that overlay one another.
Proving that this is indeed Alastor's coat on you.

You almost don't want to ever give it back, knowing you may never, ever, get this much from Alastor again.
But...he'd throw a fit if you decide to steal his coat.

When you rise to your shaky knees, you slip the coat off, handing it back to him before silently turning towards the circular mirror above the white bathroom sink, staring at yourself.

Embarrassment hits you, making your head hang low as one hand pinches the bridge of your nose.
Christ, what have I done? you say to yourself. You still can't remember all the exact details as to what happened last night, but you can recall bits and pieces here and there.

You got drunk last night...and Alastor had to help you to your room, where he then...ended up staying the night.
Why, you have no idea, and deep down, you're scared to know.

At some point, you feel Alastor approach you from behind, before his arms wrap around your waist, and you feel his head rest on top of your spine and shoulders.

"Are you...feeling all right?" he asks, softly, almost lovingly.
You fight to not break down in tears. For so long, you painted images in your head of Alastor reaching out, wrapping his arms around you lovingly.

All you've ever wanted was his touch, but feeling it now, it's to the point where its almost overwhelming, and you want to push him away.
You know why he's doing this...why he's holding you.

If you weren't feeling like shit, he wouldn't do this.
You know deep down he's forcing himself to do this, to be here, to appear like he cares.
You know these facts, and you try to fight the tears from falling.

Though deep down...your belief is wrong. Alastor is not holding you because he feels like he must do it, he's doing it because he wants too. Because he wants you to feel his presence, to be told that everything is okay.

He wants to be your friend right now...

He notices your hand shakily raise to touch his arm, though instinct has you pull away, clenching it into a balled fist, letting it dangle at your side.

"I'm going to make myself some tea," you quickly turn, feeling cold when his arms fall away from your waist as you walk into the little kitchen this hotel room has provided.

Alastor doesn't follow, he stays inside the bathroom, watching you as you grab the teapot, filling it up over the kitchen sink, before your head drops, and your body begins to quiver from tears.

A very strained sob...one you don't want him to hear, though he does.
It breaks him in half, witnessing you cry, knowing what you must be going through.

It was that moment that he realized just how deeply you loved him. How much you wanted him, how much you needed him.
Only for him to be here now, unable to provide that love you deserve and crave...

His presence alone must be a hurtful tease to you, witnessing this vulnerable moment of you crying over the kitchen sink.
He slips his coat on, inhaling a breath.

He needs to leave. He knows that his presence is anything but comforting for you right now.
But when he turns to head for the door, your soft, shaky voice quietly speaks behind him.

"Do you...want some tea?"

You watch as he looks over his shoulder at you, his face changing to multiple unreadable expressions.
You know that the last thing you need is him being here, him seeing this side of you, this ridiculous desire you have for him...

You don't want him to see you this weak, this hurt...but you can't force yourself to tell him to leave.
He didn't have to help you last night, if anything, he should have left you in the lounge for you to figure out your issues yourself.

You want to show that you're thankful for his little act of compassion last night.
So, you offer him some tea, the only thing you can do in this moment.

When a moment of uncomfortable silence stretches between you, he finally nods, coming over to the kitchen table fit for two, sitting down when you pass him his cup.

You sit across from him, and the two of you drink your tea in silence.
By now, you are fully aware of everything that's happened last night.
You even remembered that you told him that you loved him...

You feel like such a fool...putting that onto him, knowing the fact that he would never feel the same for you.
You vowed to never speak of your feelings to him, in fear that he would be pushed away entirely.

You will forever curse alcohol for the rest of your eternity in Hell, knowing damn well that that one bottle of whiskey ruined what little the two of you had, building an invisible wall between the two of you.

Alastor notices how tightly your gripping your cup, your knuckles turning white as your hand shakes, concern filling his eyes.
"Are you...feeling unwell still?" he asks, though it was pointless too.

He knows why you're like this...why you're shaking.
He knows what its like to have something he desired so badly stand in front of him, but being unable to reach out and touch it.

Though out of respect for you, he will blame it on the hangover.
You nod. "I'm just...dealing with a bad headache," you lie.

"Would you like me to find you some painkillers?" he asks.
You shake your head, rising to your feet. "You've helped me enough..." you say, setting aside your cup. "I'm going to get dressed."

Your clothes reek of alcohol, and the last thing you want to smell of is that.
You rush inside the changing room, shutting the door behind you as you allow yourself a few moments of sitting on the floor, breathing in and out to keep your breaking heart from splitting into two.

The embarrassment of everything that's happened, plus his compassion towards you is too much.
If it was any day, you would be thrilled to have an ounce of his compassion.

But on a morning like this, from a night like last night...you hate it.
You hate his pity for you, you hate the fact that he knows how you feel...
You never wanted him to feel pity for falling in love with him, and now that he does...you want to run and hide in your room forever.

Alastor sits outside, glancing at the door you just walked in at every passing three seconds.

The gnawing in his chest is growing at a rapid point, to where it is unbearable.
He rises from the chair, going over to your bed to pick up his staff he had leaned against the wall during last nights events, before he notices a little black notebook sticking out of your pillow.

Curiosity gets the better of him, and he reaches down, pulling it out to discover that it is a journal.
Your journal.

His fingers delicately trace the leather casing of this book. All your deepest secrets, your strongest desires, your worst fears that nobody will ever know are in this book.

He can't help but open it, flipping through the pages before stopping on its final page, written three weeks prior to today.
With one quick glance at the shut door you just walked through, he then sits on the bed to read.

It's a colorful page, with sunshine and flowers with smiles on there faces are drawn on this page, dancing around the black inky words written in the paper.

Underneath all the letters, he sees the initials Y + A, with the shape of a heart surrounding them. 
And underneath that...he sees two little stick figure drawings of what appears to be you and him, holding hands...

Though he does point out the fact that his stick figure character is lacking the must needed details to make him look like himself...overall, he think it's beautiful.

He props the book up, to read what was written:

***

I saw Alastor again today! :) He came to me asking if I could help him pick a wallpaper design for the hotel.
   I'm surprised he asked ME, since I'm just a guest here, and not one of the owners, but overall, I'm happy he did.
   I like his company, if I'm being honest. Deep down...I've been kind of falling for him for a while. I don't know why but whenever I'm near him...he makes me feel like I'm good enough. Like I'm stronger then I appear to be.
   I don't know what it is, if it's merely an admiration, a crush, or possibly love. Whatever it is though...I like it. :)
   After we had decided on a good wallpaper, he thanked me and called me 'darling'. I was blushing so hard at that little word...how could someone say the word Darling and make it sound so good?
   Still, you can bet that I ran to my bedroom and blushed like a school girl...

***

At that point, Alastor couldn't help but chuckle a little. He never knew that by calling you darling, you would be that happy.
Perhaps he should do it more often then...
Shaking his head, he continues to read the last half of the journal entry.

***

There's something I've been wanting to do for a while...and I'm thinking of doing it.
   I...want to ask Alastor if maybe he'd like to go out for some dinner. I've never asked anyone on a date before, so even while I write this, I'm a nervous wreck.
  But to be honest, I really really like Alastor. More then I've ever liked anyone before...
   He's just so different then anyone I've ever met before. And I know, people say he's the Radio Demon, he's dangerous...blah blah blah...
   But...he doesn't even know just how amazing he makes me feel, day in and day out. How much he means to me.
   I want to find the courage to tell him how I feel.
Because honestly, I think what I feel for him is more then a crush.
  I think I'm in love with him.
I'd do anything for him, to keep him happy, to make him feel loved.
  I'd move Heaven and Hell if he asked me too. That's just what he's done to me LOL.
  So yeah...one day, when the time is good, I'll tell him how I feel, and show him how I feel too.
  Because deep down...I don't ever want to fall in love with anybody else.
I just...love him that much.

***

Alastor's hands are gripping the leather journal so tight he leaves dents in the book done by his fingernails.
At this rate, he fears he's losing control even more then he'd like.

Reading just this little piece of paper, witnessing your vulnerable side last night, seeing the stick doodles of him...
He shuts the book quickly, slipping it back under the pillow from whence it came, his hands shaking.

What's happening to him? He thinks to himself, why does he feel this overflowing of what seems to be a mix of shame, pain, guilt, and desire...desire to make everything all better.

The desire to go to you right now, to squeeze you tight within his arms, never allowing you to leave again.
He can't deny that last night, having you curled beside him in the fetal sleeping position, felt more then just amazing.

It was extraordinary.
It felt as if by just being beside you, any ounce of lonesomeness, or emptiness he felt for centuries was vanished completely by just you beside him.

He feels the walls he's built around his heart crumpling...
He feels himself...falling, slowly, in love with you. In love with your adorable child-like nature, in love with the feel of your body beside his...

In love with your smile. Your innocent nature.

But at the same time, he finds himself gripping at where his heart is, breathless, aching.
For the first time...he's...actually scared. Scared of this feeling, of this newfound emotion he thought died when his mother passed.

He doesn't know what to do, what to say, how to react.

So when you finally step out of the dressing room, wearing a black and red sweatshirt and black sweatpants, he can't help but squeak a little.
Red. And Black. 
His colors. His freaking colors...

If you wearing those colors isn't enough of a message to him, he doesn't know what is.
You see he appears to be a little unsettled, sitting at the end of your bed, hands clenching the blankets.

Out of instinct to see what's wrong, you sit beside him.
"Are you okay?" You ask, softly, too soft...making him feel even more flustered as he fights to appear composed and hide his flustering.

"I-I'm fine, dear. Just...fine," he exhales, his head lowering.
How easily your rocking his once stable world...and you can't even see it.

Much like he did to you, and much like how oblivious he was to your world being shaken.
In a way, you are merely returning the same action he's done to you. And you don't even realize it. 

You feel a small desire to clasp his hand in yours, though fear of being rejected holds you back, keeps your fingers curled into the blanket that's sprawled atop the bed you both sit on.

Alastor can feel your energy shift, and he notices how you raise to touch his hand, but pull away.
Perhaps...holding your hand will help calm the both of your hearts down. So, he intertwine his hand with yours, which surprises you so much your breath hitches. 

Though Alastor...stays staring at the floor, his eyes locked on the cracks in the flooring, counting each crack to try and distract himself from his pounding heart, and how comforting it feels with your hand in his.

You know there is something going on with him, though you don't know what it is.
And you don't want to pressure him to tell you...if there's one thing you've learned about Alastor, is that if there is something bothering him and he doesn't want to talk about it, you do not want to demand him to tell you.

So, in the end, you exhale a breath. "I'm sorry," you say, through a soft whisper, "for last night."
You don't want to say what you're sorry for exactly, out of embarrassment, and he notices it.

He shakes his head. "There is no need to apologize...darling," he says, forgetting for a single moment that the word Darling is what makes you blush.

And indeed, you do blush, and inhale sharply, but you try to cover it with the clearing of your throat.
"Um...I uh, I want to do something, to...show you my thanks. For putting up with my drunk ass self," you laugh at your little joke, looking up to meet his red eyes that once again, make you feel so warm...

Alastor swallow. "What did you have in mind?" he asks.
You didn't even think that far ahead, you truly believed that he would deny your offer to thank him. You were surprised at first, before a moment of silence stretches between you, and you clear your throat again.

"Well, I was thinking you could come up with something," you smile up at him, daring yourself to say these words. "I'd move Heaven and Hell for you, you know that right?"

The final push. The final little nudge for him to completely fall...to lose his control entirely.
The final knock to the walls around his heart that he spent years hardening, now shattered, broken.

All done by your words...I'd move Heaven and Hell for you.
He believes you would, wholeheartedly. Even he himself will admit that he would do the same for you.

His eyes widen at first, before he raises a finger to his chin.
"Hmm, anything I want you say?"

You nod.

He's taking a dare, one that may be too much...but he can't help himself. He needs to say it or else he'll explode.

"Would you...sit on my lap?"

You freeze, mouth agape, as little stutters escape your parted lips. Your hands clench fistfuls of the blanket. You don't know what to say or how to react. 
You never expected him to ask that. You thought he'd request perhaps a nice piece of venison, or maybe a trip to the vintage stores...

But this...both makes you shocked, and makes your heart ache with desire. 

He sees the sudden shocked expression on his face, a little fear flooding his chest. Did he go to far? He didn't believe there to be anything wrong with his request, he simply wants to hold you. Though the look of your face says that you didn't see the request as such.

Maybe there is time to take it back...

Before he could respond, he sees you nod a little, biting your bottom lip in a nervous manner.
You agreed...goodness, he thought you would say no, but hearing you say yes...

He smiles softly, moving his arms so that you may have room.
You slowly crawl on top his lap, knees on each side of him, while your hands rest atop his shoulders.

You try to contain the shakiness of your hands as you hold his shoulders softly to keep you balanced.
You can barely believe that something like this is happening, that something like this is even real.

You, sitting on Alastor's lap. Him...allowing it.
You never imagined this to ever happen, but now that it is, you can barely breathe.

His hands place themselves at your hips, slowly running up your back. You feel heat pulse through from his hands to your skin, and you gasp shakily, burying your face in the crook of his shoulder.

"P-please," you whisper, feeling yourself on the brink of tears. "Please don't toy with my emotions..." its not a command, more or less a plead. Alastor has known to be manipulative, to play with people merely for amusement.

And right now...you can't tell whether or not if he's toying with your heart, after knowing how you feel about him.
Or if this is genuine...real.

He shushes you softly, his hands roaming your back gently as he can. "It is alright...just relax."
Relax, what a laughable idea. How can you relax, knowing that for months you've desired this, you dreamed of this...and now its finally happening.

You're overwhelmed. Breathless, heart pounding harshly against your chest.

"I wouldn't toy with your emotions, ma chérie," he whispers against your ear, sending a way of heat pulsing through you. "I would never..."

You don't understand anything...what is really on his mind, his intentions.
But...you love being able to experience this simple gesture of comfort, of holding him and he holding you. 

You're shuddering, tearing up as you sniffle, feelings hot tears of overwhelm and joy run down your face.
He shushes you softly, raising a thumb to brush aside your tears.

"Don't cry, my love..." he whispers, not realizing until two seconds later that he said my love.

You gasp...he called you his love.
His. Love.
Words you never thought you'd hear come out of his mouth, words that you've dreamed of hearing for months.

Does it mean what you think it means? Has he...finally opened his heart, and accepted you?
The thought of it has a sob take over, making you bury your head in his chest, crying, slithering your arms around him, squeezing him.

His hand continues to run up and down your back lovingly, feeling a wave of joy that he has brought this happiness to you. That he was the one to make you smile a genuine smile after so long of wearing fake smiles.

That he was the one...to fix your heart.

You pull away, your eyes teary as you cup his face, searching for the possible lies.
"This isn't a lie, right?" You croak, desperate as more hot tears run down your face, "please tell me you're not going to take this back..."

He shakes his head, smiling softly as he wraps his arms lovingly around your body, pulling you closer, only to intensify this fire you both feel burning in your hearts.

"I promise you, darling. I will only ever give you the truth," he pulls away to look at your beautiful face, streaked with tears that he continues to wipe with his thumb.
"I have desired you for quite some time, though I fought to deny the very fact that I feel something for you," he cups your face, pulling you closer as he finishes with a softened whisper.

"Oh my sweet Y/N," your name sounds so good rolling off his tongue, that he wants to keep saying it, enjoying the feeling of it leaving his mouth. Though he fears that doing so would only annoy you.  "I am so sorry for being blind to you, for not being able to see you, or your precious heart..."

His fingers touch your chin, holding it as he only brings you closer.
"But hearing you open your heart to me, witnessing your vulnerability you've fought to keep hidden, it only made my desire for you grow stronger."

He's so close now...that with one little nudge, your lips will meet.
You fight to keep yourself from pushing forward and kissing him, wanting to hear him finish his confession.
It's as if he's teasing you almost, being this close, but not able to kiss him...

Your heart pounds, awaiting him to speak his final words.

His smile softens. "I've desired nothing else but you, darling. You, and you alone...hold a place in my heart."

He leans closer, grazing your lips so lightly that its almost hard to keep yourself composed.
He sees the blush on your cheeks, finding it absolutely adorable, finding himself pinching your cheeks.

"Look how flustered you've become," he chuckles, "darling, I do believe that you- Mmhp!" his eyes shoot open when you press his lips against his, not able to wait another damn second longer because of how long you've already waited.

His stomach twists into knots, but in a comfortable sort of way, as his hands cup your face, returning the kiss with a little passion, as if he's been saving this just for you.

You feel yourself weakening by the second, barely able to contain your joy.
He's yours...finally yours...after months of believing that he would never be, that he would never love you...

All that pain vanishes away the instant your lips met his, sealing each other's love.
You lose yourself in this moment of being in his arms, of feeling his lips move in sync with yours, tasting the subtle hint of the tea you made him earlier...

You first kiss...and his first kiss too.
Almost like you both were waiting for this moment, unknowingly.
The kiss seems to end to soon for you, for when he pulls away, you want to pull him right back, but you can't help yourself but say what you've been wanting to tell him for months. 

"I love you."

His smile softens even more, his fingers elegantly brushing aside a lock of your hair. 
"I love you too, my dear," he responds, in such a soft and gentle tone that you know for sure that he means it.

He does love you...

You blush as red as his hair, before glancing to the two shadows in the other part of the room, swirling around each other, there blue and red eyes seeming to glow as there black weightless bodies hold each other, speaking to each other in words you cannot hear or understand. 

Alastor and yours shadows...even they themselves are in love with each other, finally embracing for the first time...

Alastor sees this moment his shadow is experiencing with your shadow, and his chest begins to feel warm.
Even his shadow was in love...how long did they're shadows have to wait to be together? Did they wait longer then Alastor and you?

Were your shadow and Alastor's shadow forced to be apart, due to you and Alastor walking away from each other time and time again?

Alastor glances at you, pulling you close so that your head rests on his chest, his fingers lovingly brushing your soft hair. 
The both of you, watching the happy moment shared between two shadows...

You and Alastor's souls were tied the moment your eyes met all those months ago.
You and him were meant to be together...meant to unlock the sides of each other you never knew existed.

At this moment, you say to yourself that the wait, and even the pain were worth it.
Because now...he is finally yours.
And you...are his.

He looks at you fondly, brushing aside your hair.
"Your beauty is captivating, my heart's desire," he whispers.
Heart's desire...a new nickname.
One especially said for you.

You blush and giggle, before the growling of your hungry empty stomach has both your eyes looking down.

He raises a brow, meeting your gaze. "Why don't you and I go out, for some breakfast?" he rises to his feet, taking your hand in his, an excited look in his eyes. "I know a fabulous place that serves wonderful venison! Let us go there, darling!"

He pulls you excitedly out of your room, as if wanting to spread the word that you are now officially his.
You laugh, following him, your hand still wrapped around yours as you both walk side by side down the hallway.

Months of walking these hallways alone, are now over.
Now, with every step you take in Hell, he will be beside you.

He has finally opened his heart for the first time ever since his mother passed. And it is you who claimed it.
It is you that he sees. 
You...and you alone.

Now, and always.

★★★
THE END❤
★★★

(Thanks for reading this two part imagine! I hope you liked it!!!)