You never knew that Alastor had a basement.

That is, until today.

Alastor didn't let you come with him when he put Lucifer's body down there, and you didn't mind. He probably had plenty of other dead bodies down there that you had no interest in seeing, although he described it as nothing more than, "A musty room with laundry units and whatnot."

After the body was safely locked away, the two of you were too tired to talk about anything. The events of the day were really starting to hit you in bittersweet waves, so you didn't want to do anything but sleep.

You slept in Alastor's bedroom, and all throughout the night, you spooned like two of the cutest demons in love.

☆

"What do you want to eat for lunch?"

"Nothing. I'm not hungry."

Alastor pulled you closer. "Are you sure, sweetheart? I thought you were always hungry," he stated curiously. Even though it was a quarter past noon, you were still in bed, snuggled together like separating would be the death of you.

It was nice to have someone like this again. Back in the real world, you had Nate, who was there for you through almost everything, but after the incident, he drifted away. Then, once you died, you really did have nobody.

But now you did have somebody. You had Alastor, who would spoon you until you melted, who was willing to protect you with his life, who would make you delicious meals even though he would never eat any of them.

"Yeah, I'm sure. I lost my appetite last night and I don't think I'll ever get it back," you said with a small laugh. "Are you hungry?"

"A bit."

You rolled over so you could look into his eyes. They were bright and red—just like always. You loved those eyes. Placing one palm on his cheek, you said, "You can go... y'know, eat. If you want to."

"It can wait."

"No, it can't. Go eat. Or hunt. Whatever you call it."

"I don't want to leave you alone."

You paused, doodling little circles on Alastor's cheek with your thumb. "Then I'll come with you."

"Believe me, you don't want to."

"Well, what are you going to do then? Never eat?" you argued, frowning. "You don't want to leave me alone, and you don't want me to come with you."

Now it was Alastor's turn to pause. He sighed lightly, his chest expanding against yours. "I don't know. I suppose you could come with me." He then narrowed his gaze, a sideways smile tugging up the corners of his lips. "But you can't watch."

"Sounds like a plan to me," you grinned, pinching his cheek a bit. He winced. "Oh, sorry."

"It's okay, my love. I've been through worse pain, especially if you consider being stabbed in the stomach more painful than a little pinch."

You giggled, than leaned forward and placed a soft kiss on his lips. As he kissed back, the familiar twinge of lightning shot up your body in response to the romantic energy of the action.

You deepened the kiss, parting your lips slightly. Alastor did the same. His arms started to wrap tighter around your body, forcing your chest to press into his. You felt your body roll in response. Fingers found their way into your hair, tangling it up underneath his grasp.

After several solid minutes of making out, you pulled away and gave Alastor a look. One of his eyebrows twinged upward with curiosity, providing the question without using words. His look said, 'Why did you stop kissing me?'

You couldn't help but smile. "Come on. We're going to get you food."

"Right now?" he whined.

You had never heard him use a tone like that; it was sort of desperate, but you understood. There was nothing in the world that you would rather be doing than kissing him.

"Yes, right now. You have to eat," you said, giving him a little poke in the stomach before rolling over and sitting up.

Alastor sighed, following suit. "Alright. Give me a moment to get myself dressed, dear." He was still wearing his sleeping clothes, which included the usual cotton tee shirt and, this time, black jogging pants.

"Can I watch?"

"No."

"Please?"

"My love, why in the name of Satan would you want to watch me get dressed?"

"First of all, you literally killed Satan, so you don't have the right to use his name in vain anymore, and second of all, because why not?"

"No."

"Fine," you grumbled, standing up and leaving the bedroom. You closed the door gently behind you, then sat down on the wooden floor of the hallway with your arms crossed.

It wasn't that you wanted to watch him get dressed—it wasn't some sort of weird turn on for you to watch people change, but rather the opposite. If Alastor was willing to be... well, naked in front of you, then that would be a pretty good milestone for you and him, wouldn't it?

Maybe not. Maybe that was just plain weird.

Neither of you had previously brought up the topic of having sex. Other than making out, snuggling and the quite often hand holding, no romantic buildups had occurred between the two of you. You weren't disappointed about that fact, but it might be nice to see what he was like in bed...

The door clicked, then swung open. "Finished!" Alastor chirped, stepping out into the hallway. He was all done up in a suit, bow tie and slacks—his usual red-drenched attire.

Well, that was fast.

"What are you doing on the floor?"

You shrugged. "Waiting," you replied as Alastor held a hand out to help you up. You took it. "Hey, I have a little question for you."

Alastor leaned down to peck your forehead. "Ask away, dearest love of mine!" he said, straightening up and starting to walk to the stairs. You followed beside him.

"Why do you always wear fancy clothes when you leave the house? Like, you're about to go eat..." you trailed off. As a matter of fact, you didn't know much about how Alastor ate. He mentioned that his diet strictly covered venison—or, rather, that was his favorite thing to eat—but you didn't know about the process itself.

You made a mental note to ask him about that later.

"If you put forth the effort to look nice, in a suit and tie, as I like to put it, then you most likely have a good work ethic. I hope this doesn't sound too self-centered, but I do try to make myself into as much as a gentleman as possible." As if on cue, Alastor opened the front door for you, a both charming and seductive grin on his face. "Ladies first."

A sweet smile graced your lips as you walked past him, heading into the outdoors.

Once you were in the forest, Alastor reached over and grabbed hold of your hand, sliding his skinny fingers in between yours.

"Tell me something," he said suddenly.

"Tell you what?"

"A story. About your old life."

You hummed, looking off into the trees in search of a response to his demand. A story. You couldn't remember too many stories about your real life, which was pretty boring at times.

Just then, something came to mind. An actual story, with volume and depth. You told Alastor the story, gesturing with your free hand at times, all the while keeping your other hand interlocked with his. Alastor's reaction to your story was hilarious.

For a while, the two of you went on talking and asking each other questions like you were on a blind date. He ended up explaining everything about how he ate—which answered the question you were thinking about earlier.

After a while, a peaceful, comfortable silence came between you two. The trees cast broken shadows all over the soft ground below your shoes. Most of the grass was dead, but there were still a few patches of live greenery. Seeing those patches of living grass reminded you of the Garden of Eden, and with it, every traumatizing thing that happened above and inside of that eerie cave. Aching shivers twisted down your spine and made you squeeze Alastor's hand tighter.

You forced yourself to think about something else. You didn't want to remember the Garden, but rather, a better memory, preferably one with Alastor. It took a couple of seconds before a new memory did come up. Like a lightbulb, imagery of the pool in the back of the Victor Aire Ice Arena flashed before your eyes. Entire conversations replayed in your head, and you could practically see the heart-shaped pool with it's unnaturally still water sitting within those bright, white tiles.

With the freshly resurfaced memory, a question popped up in your mind. It sat on the tip of your tongue as you debated whether you should ask it or just let the peaceful silence continue.

You sighed, making your decision.

"Alastor?"

"Yes, my love?"

"How did you die?"

Alastor didn't speak. The silence came back, but this time, it was tenser, and just as dense as the forest itself. Just as you were about to tell him never mind, he began to laugh, his crackly, throaty voice ricochetting through the dying trees. It was the kind of laugh that could be known and recognized. Maybe the demons of hell did recognize it. Maybe they all knew about Alastor, The Radio Demon, and his reputation... and his laugh.

"Why are you laughing?" you asked cautiously, blinking up at him.

"It was a funny question!"

"It was?"

"Indeed, my love!"

Despite the situation, you felt yourself inwardly cringe. "How so?"

Sighing, Alastor calmed down, ceasing his laughter so he could explain himself. "I haven't thought about my death in ages. I've been so distracted with, well... you, Cupcake."

"Is that a good thing?" You said each word slowly, as if you were tasting the letters in your mouth as you let them spew past your lips.

"I suppose so," he replied, running his thumb up and down the back of your hand. "My death isn't something I like to think about often, but it was a pretty comical way to go out, if I do say so myself."

You thought about that statement. Were there any comical ways to die? "Really?"

"Really really. I'm sure you're dying to know what I'm talking about, so I'll tell you! I was killed by a trigger happy deer hunter, who mistook me for one of the white-tailed creatures he was hunting. I, myself, was hunting when the incident took place, and I believe that's why I've become part deer."

"Huh." You looked down at your feet. "Well, that's something we have in common!"

"What is something we have in common? Becoming part deer during the transition to the afterlife?"

"No, obviously not, silly," you said, giving Alastor a grin that dimmed his own in comparison. "We were both shot."

"Ah. I suppose you're right."

"Well, thanks for telling me," you said, "but I have one more question."

Alastor narrowed his eyes. "One more?"

You nodded.

"Fine."

"How did you become as powerful as you are now? Like, were you always this super-human guy who could kill people with the snap of your fingers?" you wondered, your eyes shining with childish curiosity.

Alastor's smile brightened, but in a menacing way. "Oh no, my love. I had to work my way up to this position."

The curiosity began to flicker. What could he possibly mean by that?

"Would you like me to explain?" he asked, as if he had read your mind. Based on the sharp, burning glare in his eyes, it wasn't hard for you to imagine that he really had read your mind.

"Yes."

"Alright, whatever you say, (Y/N) dearest." He paused and cleared his throat, looking out into the forest before him, his red eyes shining like spotlights on the trees surrounding you. "It all started in 1933..."

☆

[ oof cliffhanger :0
also, i think i might be ending this story soon, but i still have to figure out exactly how im going to end it. i just want to get a few conversations between (Y/N) and Al before i wrap everything up!
thanks sm for reading! i love when ya'll comment and vote, it makes me so happy :> hope u guys enjoy my story, cus i sure is hell enjoy writing it! ]