Al looks more simple but took longer because drawing men has never been my strong suit.

When I tell you I specifically learned how to draw men just so I could draw Alastor, you better believe me😂😂

I might paint the sketch of Fawn, I think it turned out cute.

Alastor's POV

My back rested against my bed's headboard, my arms behind my head as I sat in deep thought.

Every single alarm was blaring in my mind, telling me to dispose of this woman. To get rid of her before she can turn me in.

However, I do not like killing women.

Had she been a man she would already be sectioned off and stored in my cellar.

Those eyes, that way she was looking at me-ugh, I just wanted to at least give her a chance to explain herself.

Even if her explanation is utterly ridiculous.

A deep sigh pushed out of my lungs as I let my eyes close.

Utterly ridiculous...but I can't shake the feeling of her being just a bit odd.

The way she curses, the way she holds herself...it's fascinating. She speaks with a completely different accent and tone than any woman I know would, and those clothes.

I don't think I've ever seen a lady show so much skin.

To be completely honest, I was more worried about what could've happened had any other man beside me found her- she's tiny, petite, and was wearing basically underwear.

My brain was still fighting over whether or not I should believe her. On one hand, if she's lying to me I'll have to kill her.

But then I'll also have to kill her if she can't get home...

That's non negotiable, I cannot just have her running around knowing my secret, and I most certainly don't want her in my house for the rest of my life.

I feel like it'll be amusing watching her try various methods to try and make time travel happen. That's what I can't wrap my brain around.

Time travel.

She says she's from the future, and acts like she isn't from this time-but, come on, time travel?

She probably just hit her head a little too hard.

Even so, my original statement to her still stands...if she got here, there must be a way for her to return.

There has to be.

A gentle knock against my door silenced my thoughts, and my eyes snapped open. Looking towards the door, I lifted a smile onto my face and answered the knock.

"Come in!" I called, and I watched the doorknob turn very slowly before she pushed the door open.

Then my eyes widened when she partially shuffled into my room with nothing but a towel wrapped securely around her body.

"Al-Alastor..." she stuttered, keeping her eyes to the floor.

It took me a second to snap out of my surprise and I blinked, shaking my head.

"Yes, sweetheart?" I asked, trying to fight the embarrassed blush that wanted to dust my nose. No woman would ever be taught to walk out looking so lewd...she is a strange one.

"I- um...I don't have anything to wear..." she said, her voice sounding small.

My eyes widened and I immediately pushed myself off of my bed, heading over to my dresser that had various night shirts in it.

"Of course, my apologies," I muttered as I sifted through the shirts. I don't have anything that will fit her, but these will have to do for now...

Grabbing her a shirt and a pair of pants, I walked to her and handed them to her. I kept my eyes trained on anything but the towel wrapped around her body.

Looking up at me, she met my eyes for a moment before they immediately fell again and she took the clothes.

"T-thanks..." she uttered before quickly turning and leaving my room.

Then not even two seconds later she popped back through the doorway, clutching the clothes close to her body.

"I like your bathroom..." she complimented softly, then disappeared again.

I blinked and shook my head, wondering what I'm going to do with this girl.

She's damn cute, but hell, I just can't risk it.

She'll need to figure out a way home, or she's meeting the business end of my knife.

I walked over to my bed, sitting down with a sigh.

A few more minutes later and I heard the bathroom door click open softly, followed by her quiet footsteps once again approaching my room.

When she appeared in the doorway, my breath caught in my throat. My shirt hung off her body loosely, and the pants bunched up at her feet.

Her hands were clasped in front of her as she fidgeted timidly. She stayed quiet, but looked up at me as if waiting for instruction.

So, I patted the bed next to me.

Then watched her eyes gain a worried look and she reluctantly came and sat next to me, keeping some distance between us.

Around her throat was a bit red where I'd grabbed her, and I averted my eyes, feeling just slightly guilty about that.

"Do you feel better, dear?" I asked her, bending forward slightly to try and see her eyes that she was hiding from me.

Her face was flushed, and her voice was still just a little bit rough from when she was crying earlier.

She glanced at me, and then back to her hands, "uh, yea...thank you, for...letting me clean up," she said, wringing her hands in her lap.

"You know, you can look me in the eyes...I won't get upset," I said, and she shrugged.

Her eyes stayed glued to her hands, making me tsk before I reached over absentmindedly and placed my fingers under her chin.

Lifting her head, I finally got a good look at her eyes since everything happened.

They were bloodshot and glossy, holding worry behind them.

She pulled her chin from me and her gaze fell again, "do you have a hair brush?" She croaked, her voice still sounding timid.

I thought for a moment...I do not have a woman's hairbrush, no...and she has a lot of hair.

Looking at her, I observed the wet strands that laid loosely down her back in blonde waves. Her hair was obviously just a little bit tangled, and I shook my head.

"No...I don't, dear, I'm sorry...I have a comb, if you'd like to try that?"

She sighed softly, and nodded, "that will work fine, I guess," she murmured, and I stood up, walking to my bathroom that was connected with the master bedroom.

Opening the drawer containing my grooming products, I stole a glance at her.

She looked utterly pitiful, her body looking shrunken sitting in my clothing. Her fingers nervously picked at each other, and she was just a little bit tense in the shoulders, I could tell.

Perhaps I shouldn't have snapped as badly as I did...

I probably gave her quite the fright, so it's understandable she's still just a bit spooked by me.

In my defense, I panicked.

Of course, I'm sure her newfound knowledge of my bloody hobby doesn't bode too well on her feelings towards me, either.

I found my comb and looked over it. My brows creased as I wondered how she was going to do anything with her hair with this tiny thing.

"Cher," I called to her, looking over. Her eyes lifted at the sound of my voice, and wordlessly she slid off the bed and shuffled over to me.

I handed her the comb, and she mumbled a thank you before she slipped past me to stand in front of the mirror.

Making my way back to my bed, I came to the realization that I'm going to have to adjust to having another human being in my house.

A human being that I'm slightly responsible for.

She stood in the bathroom, leaning forward just barely as she used my comb to tug away at her tangles. I watched her very closely, curious about her process.

The only other woman I've ever lived with or been close to was my mother, so it's interesting to me to see the way she does things.

Whereas I just run the comb through my hair from the roots, she started at the ends. She worked gently at the tangles, a calm expression on her face as she stared forward at her reflection.

Slowly her hair became smooth as she passed the comb through, and I was just staring at her in awe as to how she managed to detangle all of that hair with my tiny comb.

When she was finished, she turned to me.

Finding that I was already looking at her, she blushed in what I'm guessing is embarrassment before laying the comb onto the bathroom counter.

"I'm just going to put that there... um... goodnight," she said, and wasted no time in slipping past me and out of my room.

I listened to her soft steps fade as she went back downstairs. Furrowing my brows, I was wondering what she was doing...is she getting water?

When after a good while she didn't return, I got worried and wondered if she slipped out the front door. I shouldn't let her wonder so aimlessly around, I still don't trust her not to go to the police.

Quickly I stood up off the bed, exiting my room and descending down the stairs. My eyes went to my front door immediately, but it was shut and locked still.

Then I turned and stopped completely in my tracks.

She's curled up in a tiny ball on the couch, hugging her knees.

The irritated smile on my face softened as I realized I didn't give her a room to stay in...how rude of me.

Quietly I walked over to her, peeking over her body to see her eyes were closed. She's either asleep, or pretending to be.

Reaching down, I carefully collected her into my arms. Pretending was the right answer, because almost immediately her entire body went tense and those big green eyes opened up and looked up at me.

I picked her up, cradling her in my arms. She felt tense and looked scared.

"I-I-I'm sorry, I didn't-" she stuttered out, her eyes darting around. She apparently didn't grasp the concept of me not being an asshole to her.

From the future or not, she's a lady, I'll treat her as such until the day falls where I may have to end her life.

And even then I wouldn't kill her nearly as violently as I would a man. Like I said before, I don't like the idea of killing women in general.

I have done it before.

Once.

"You're not in trouble, dear," I said quietly, beginning to walk her back up the stairs. One of her hands held onto my shirt and she just kind of laid helplessly in my arms.

"Oh..." she uttered, and then fell silent.

Reaching my guest bedroom, I supported her against my chest with one arm and opened the door.

"This room has never been used," I started, making my way to the bed with her. I sat her onto the queen sized mattress and stepped back, placing my hands behind my back.

"So please excuse any dust," I finished with a smile, and she just looked up at me, then at the bed, running her fingers over the comforter.

"I could have walked up here..." she grumbled quietly, and I chuckled at that, shrugging.

"I believed you to be asleep, darling...excuse my carrying you," I said lightly and she situated herself under the covers, getting as comfortable as she could manage.

Then she rolled over on her side away from me and curled up again.

I just looked down at her small form in the bed, and sighed quietly through my nose before I turned and walked towards the door.

"Goodnight, darling," I called.

"Goodnight..." her voice called back, very softly.

But that was good enough for me.