Rough first design of Aria.

Alastor's POV

I laid back in her bed, staring at the ceiling. My hands laid over my chest, my features relaxed.

My eyes fell over to the bathroom, the light seeping from under the door reminding me of the woman swimming through my brain.

The doorknob jiggled, and I quickly fixed a smile onto my face. After it swung open I felt my breath catch.

The light illuminated behind her, her silhouette being softly defined. She pulled her damp hair over her shoulder, sighing.

Whatever this feeling in my stomach is only gets worse each time I look at her. It wasn't helping that she was wearing a tiny pair of flannel shorts and a cropped tank top.

I let my eyes fall to the small bit of stomach she was showing, the smooth skin looking soft. Quickly I looked away, and she plopped onto the bed, making the weight shift.

"Alastor," she said, amusement in her tone, "are you wearing that thing to bed?" She asked.

I looked down at my suit.

I probably shouldn't...but...

"Yes," I responded, and she scoffed.

"No."

I looked over at her, and she was smiling, shaking her head.

"You're not."

She pointed to the bathroom, "in fact, you're showering, and then you're changing out of that," she jabbed her finger back towards my ensemble.

I strained my smile, and then a growl rolled through my chest against my will. Her look faltered and so did her little smile.

Immediately I cursed these animalistic reactions that come along with being a demon. I sat up, moving closer to her slightly.

But when she flinched back away from me it felt more like she slapped me in the mouth.

"Darling, please, it was only an initial reaction, I..." I found myself lost for words. Why am I...explaining myself to her?

What has gotten into me?

She released the tension in her body, relaxing back into her original spot, "it just sounded like I made you...mad...I thought you were going to hit me...I'm sorry..." the more she spoke the quieter her voice became.

I thought you were going to hit me...

I had to bite back another growl, my fist tightening to help control the blinding rage that statement caused.

Not rage towards her...not even close. Rage towards a person I've already dealt with.

What I wouldn't give to bring him back to life just to skin him alive.

Then again, to pour boiling water down his throat.

Then again...you get the point.

"Aria, look at me," I said firmly, and her eyes met mine, "come here," I motioned for her to come closer.

She scooted a bit closer to me, and I checked her heartbeat.

Fast.

She's scared. Of me.

I focused back on her, and then held my hand up, showing her my palm.

She looked at it, and without me even saying a word, she put her palm flat against mine. My fingers nearly doubled over hers.

My entire hand nearly doubled hers.

I'll protect you...

I will protect you.

My fingers curled over hers, I flipped my hand and pulled hers close to me, using my other hand to reach up and brush my fingers over her cheek.

She leaned into my touch, and that feeling came back to my stomach.

God dammit, what is happening to me. What is happening to me.

Her eyes raised to look into mine, and before I could even give it a second thought I pulled her into my chest. Her arms folded against her, her palms resting flat against my chest.

Her head was tucked under my chin, and I let my smile fall. My eyes focused on the opposite wall, and I hugged her as if this is something I do regularly.

But I don't.

So why am I?

"I would never hit you..."

I couldn't even bring myself to kill you.

"Please tell me you understand..."

Please...

She slipped her hands around to my back, returning my hug. She chuckled quietly, then cozied up to me a bit more, nearly pulling herself into my lap.

"I understand," she said, "should I expect these hugs every day?" She asked, her sly undertone snapping me back into reality.

I released her, and she pulled back, looking up at me with a tilted smile.

She grabbed my hand, picking it up and facing my palm towards her cheek. She let her head fall into my hand, and her eyes closed, her smile becoming more of a ghost.

"I understand...but my understanding doesn't un-ingrain what I'm used to...I'm trying..."

Her eyes opened and she met mine once again.

"Do you understand?"

My smile that had returned softened, and I nodded. She smiled, then pulled my hand from her face, letting it fall back into my lap.

I slid off the bed, walking over to the bathroom.

Her eyes followed me, and I looked back at her, shooting her a sharp smile. My smile.

Yet, all she did was return it.

So with that I slipped into the washroom, closing the door. As soon as the door was shut I fell apart.

My expression fell, and I leaned over the counter, my knuckles turning white from the grip I had on it. I clenched my teeth and reluctantly looked at the man in the mirror.

These red eyes.

You have knives in your mouth, Alastor.

Remind me of who I am, again...?

The Radio Demon?

Demons run and scream when they see me. Nothing feels better than having blood on my hands.

Or at least that's what I thought until I felt her touch...

I stood back, undressing myself. My clothing fell, piece by piece, straight to the floor. Right down to this ashy grey skin I've been given.

I looked over my chest and stomach...my arms...

These fucking scars.

My jaw felt tense, and I tore my eyes from the mirror. Why am I picking apart my appearance? Since when do I care how others perceive me outside of the terror they should feel!?

Her...

What does she think of me...?

I growled lowly, tearing the shower curtain back, with the flick of my wrist the water was on. Ice cold.

I stepped into it, letting the water fall over my chest. These showers aren't exactly made for demons.

I manipulated it to fit my height, the water is now hitting my head. My ears pinned back, the water slowly soaking through my hair.

I let my hand press against the tile in front of me, holding myself up.

Alastor, who is this girl to you to make you feel such a way? A human is peeling you apart as if she's known you your entire life, so why do you let her?

I just...

I can't bring myself to stop her.

**

I stood in front of the mirror, my hair stuck to my forehead and my face. I pushed it back, looking into my tired eyes.

Across my chest I wore every mistake I've ever made.

Across my stomach, across my arms.

All of my mistakes have led me to where I stand right now.

All of my mistakes have led me to this reflection.

I wrapped a towel around my waist, blowing a heavy sigh from my nose, contemplating showing her my mistakes.

I want to show her my mistakes.

Something about her makes me want to share everything with her...maybe it's her big doe eyes...or her cute little smile.

My hand turned the knob to the door, pushing it open. The 15 minutes that separated the events leading to now seemed more like 15 years.

Her eyes lazily looked over to me, falling back to her phone before immediately snapping back to me.

Her eyes widened and her mouth fell open, her gaze pasted to my body instead of my eyes.

I made sure the towel was secure, stepping into the room. She just watched me, her lips parted in what I can only assume is surprise.

"Alastor...?" She finally spoke, and I looked up at her. I pushed my hair back once again.

I, of course, was wearing a smile, but it's never been so difficult before.

"Yes, dear?"

She sat up a bit more, then motioned for me to come closer to her, her eyes still glued to my chest. They scanned my entire body, my arms and legs, up my stomach and straight back to my eyes.

I walked over to her, my heart pounding.

This is what I wanted, no? I feel so exposed.

Once I was in front of her, she sat up on her legs, looking over my torso.

"Alastor..." her voice was soft, saying my name.

She lifted her hand, and I tensed. She paused her action and looked up into my eyes. I was trying to control my breathing and heart rate. Why am I so nervous?

"May I...?" She asked me for permission to continue. My answer should be no, I should cut it off there. My answer should be no, I should stop this here.

But I nodded.

Her fingers brushed over my stomach and I was almost brought to my knees. She gently ran them across my midsection, trailing over each individual scar.

"These scars...they're to remind you of how you died, aren't they?" She said. My breath caught, and I nodded when she looked to me for an answer.

To remind me of all of my mistakes.

"I love them," she said firmly, the words almost knocking the air of me. My entire expression nearly fell, I barely caught myself in time.

"What...?" I breathed out, and she smiled.

"They're gorgeous, I wish I could wear mine on the outside. Yours are a constant reminder of just how badass you are," she said, and looked up at me with a smile.

I stared down at her, and slowly my relaxed smile widened. I put my hand over hers that was rested against my stomach.

I've made mistakes in my life...and all of them have lead me to where I stand right now.

All of my mistakes have led me to her.