Alastor's POV

This week has been relatively calm.

Most of the tension from our recent events has dwindled, and Aria has moved on. She handles trauma very well.

But she's been through it before. So, her handling of the situations she endures is based off her current understanding of the world.

She is strong.

Right now I'm sitting across the table from her, reading the newspaper. She's been decorating cookies since we woke up this morning.

I peeked over the edge of my paper to check on her. The little gingerbread man shaped sugar cookies were cute, I'll give her that.

So far it looks like she's decorated over half of them. Currently she's putting a lot of detail into the one she's focused on.

I smiled softer at the sight, and put my paper down to focus fully on her.

The red icing she was using was vibrant and she was—

Wait.

Wait, is that me?

I leaned forward slightly and tilted my head. She noticed me looking and smiled.

After a few more touches she put down the icing and held the cookie up.

I stared at it, looking over the little details she added.

Yep...that's me.

"Look, I made you! And I made Eliot, and me," she said excitedly, placing my cookie down next to the other two.

Those got their own special plate, away from the regularly decorated cookies.

"They're very cute, darling," I said to her, and she smiled wider.

"You think so? I worked hard on yours, I wanted it to look right since you dress the most complicated," she said and I lowered my eyelids.

I looked down at my dress shirt and slacks.

I don't dress..."complicated"...

"I disagree on that, my dear, but I do appreciate your attention to detail," I said and she snickered.

I watched as she picked up an uniced cookie off the cooling rack next to her, and she handed it to me.

The little smile on her face was nothing short of adorable. I glanced at the sugar cookie and then took it from her.

I took a small bite, unsure of how I'm going to feel about it. I can tolerate sugar cookies, but I think she misunderstood me when I said they're the only ones I care for.

She made...so many...

However, my eyes widened and I looked at the cookie in my hand. Wow...that's very good, I must say.

"Dear, this is amazing. You're a little pastry chef," I complimented her and she squinted when she smiled.

"Thanks! It's momma's recipe," she said and I hummed.

"A cultured woman," I mused and took another bite of the cookie.

Aria sighed and sat back in her chair.

I sent her a quick glance, looking over her appearance. Every morning I make sure she takes her medicine. I have it ready for her by the time she wakes up.

The bruises on her arms have started fading, and her skin is gaining a bit of its color back.

This relieved me greatly...to see her gaining her health back. She's perked up as well, seeming less and less tired by each passing day.

I'm pleased that whatever doctor the insect took her to prescribed her the proper medicine. Back in my day if one was sick, normally they were prescribed either cocaine or morphine.

Both are frowned upon nowadays...except morphine is more—less available to the public.

As is arsenic.

The world is a lot less fun than when I lived here.

"Hey Al," Aria's voice pulled me from my thinking, and I looked over at her. The entire time I'd been mindlessly eating my cookie, and it was nearly gone.

She stood up and walked over to me, and I followed her with my eyes. The one thing I've noticed hasn't improved is her weight...

She's right...she lost weight. Which is not good, because she is tiny and barely had any weight on her to begin with. She needs to start eating more...

When she made it to me, she sat in my lap and I wrapped an arm around her waist to hold her there.

"You haven't been to hell recently...don't you need to check up on your stuff?" She asked me and I smiled down at her.

"Is someone concerning herself with my affairs?" I teased her and she pouted and snatched the small bit of remaining cookie from my fingers, promptly eating it.

I gasped.

"Thief!" I accused and she scrunched her nose at me and then giggled, covering her mouth as she was in the middle of chewing.

I sighed then, and put my chin on her head. She curled against me and I pulled her a tad bit closer. She smells like icing and sugar cookies.

"I actually made arrangements in hell...I'm going to stay here with you for a little while, dear," I told her, "a bit like a vacation, if you will," I continued my explanation, and she hummed.

"A vacation? Does every demon get to take vacations from hell?" She chuckled and I scoffed.

"They wish. It takes power to manifest energy in the living world, and without that a demon cannot develop a physical form," I said, and she sighed softly, tapping her fingers against my shoulder.

"So...do you manifest your own energy? Or do you get it from somewhere else?"

I froze. My eyes trained forward and my smile faltered.

That hesitation only lasted a moment.

"I make it myself, dear," I said smoothly, and she nodded against my chest. She pulled out her phone, then, and just laid against me.

Her soft breathing and even heartbeat were clear indicators that she was calm. Happy.

As long as she's happy, I am happy.

There was a long moment of us just sitting together at the kitchen table, her silently scrolling through her phone. My thoughts were elsewhere...

Suddenly she gasped sharply, and sat up in my lap. She turned her phone towards me, and immediately I squinted and grabbed her wrist, pulling the screen a bit further from my face so I could see it.

On the screen was...a forecast...? The week was laid out in a schedule of some sort, and it seemed to be predicting the weather.

I looked over it for a moment, confused.

"What am I supposed to be seeing, peu d'amour?" I asked her, still looking over the screen.

"Snow! Alastor, it's supposed to snow! This Thursday!" She exclaimed excitedly, and my eyebrows raised.

Snow? That's rare.

"Snow? I haven't seen snow in......decades," I mumbled, putting my finger to my chin. Aria gasped loudly, and I looked at her.

She was looking at me in disbelief.

"Really?" She said, and I nearly laughed.

"Honey, I have lived in hell for 80 some odd years," I reminded her and she blinked.

"Forgot about that momentarily..." she grumbled and then perked back up, smiling, "well, hopefully this Thursday we break your depressing no snow streak!" She said and smiled big.

I chuckled at her positivity, and hugged her tighter, "yes, dear, hopefully that happens."

She settled back into her spot and I reached over and grabbed another cookie off the cooling rack. I bit the head off the cookie and then handed it to her.

It took her a moment to realize what I wanted her to do, but she took it from me and then smiled up at me.

She looked back to the cookie, "you beheaded him..." she mumbled and I snickered. Then she bit it's arm off, and handed it back to me. I bit the other arm off.

We went back  and forth until it was just the body.

I bit it in half and she took the last piece.

After we were done eating, she giggled.

"We're the cookie torturers," she snickered to herself and I shook my head.

"You're so silly..." I mumbled with a little smile and she snuggled up to me.

"Hey, hey, hold on now...who started it?" She said with a raised eyebrow and I rolled me eyes. My smile widened as I averted my eyes from her and she poked me in the chest.

"You!" She said and I laughed.

"Ok, ok dear," I dropped my attitude and looked back down at her. She looks so fragile right now...

I cupped her cheek and she leaned into my hand. Her eyes have dark circles under them...that along with her weight has not improved.

I leaned down and kissed her, then pressed my forehead against hers, keeping my eyes closed.

She'll get better...she's got medicine...

She'll be fine...