. . .
“Have you ever been in love? Horrible, isn’t it? It makes you so vulnerable. It opens your chest and it opens you heart and it means that someone can get inside and mess you up.”
–Neil Gaiman
. . .
ALASTOR NYX:

It was so soft and cozy was the first thing his mind registered when he slowly came to...which was a whole lot of weird, since Alastor was sure he hadn't gotten back to his hotel room or even remembered falling asleep on a bed in the first place.
But he could feel warm fabrics against his bare skin as he shifted, trying to get back to sleep and he was positive the softness underneath him could only come from a bed… or probably a cloud with just how soft and fluffy it was, the scent of honey and a hint of vanilla wafting pleasantly all around him like it was enveloping him into a hug as he sighed in pure bliss, wishing he could tuck this scent in a bottle so he could get back to it any time he wants.
He held a dark purple duvet close to his face and–
Alastor jolted upright, never mind the way the abrupt movement made his head pound, the only hint that he was definitely getting a hangover as his wide eyes took in the large bed he was settled in, filled with dark fabrics when his vision finally righted into focus and… and who the hell needs this army of pillows?!
Staring face to face with him was a child-sized stuffed husky and Alastor decided that yes, this is not my room.
Room was an understatement, though; this one was easily twice as large as his bedroom back in the North. Or maybe it looked larger than it should have been because there was literally only a large bed, a small computer desk in the far corner which completely devoid of any personal belongings–save for the worn stuffed toy right next to him–nothing that would give Alastor any hint if the owner was a man or a woman.
It literally looked just like a place for someone to sleep in.
Where the hell is he? Did Alistair bring him to sleep somewhere? Oh shit, did he hook up with someone else?!
Fortunately, before Alastor could freak the fuck out, the door suddenly opened, not even making a sound as Winters suddenly stalked inside, her dark hair completely loose for once and reaching past her waist where it seemed to curl slightly by the tips as she glared down at something on her cell phone, lips curled into a displeased scowl.
Holy shit.
Alastor felt his mouth dropping open, throat drying up almost instantly as he gaped like a fish out of water at her.
Holy shit.
It was the first time he saw her dressed in another color; brown shorts, matched with an even lighter shade of brown gladiator sandals with straps and strings wrapped around long legs that had him swallowing inaudibly and an oversized, white long sleeved-shirt that seemed to hug her slender frame and Alastor wanted to give her a hug, too, damn it!
What the hell?
What the fuck is going on?
Why–why is he still dreaming?!
For a while, his mate thankfully didn't notice him gawking at her like a koi fish as she silently moved across the room, gaze still focused on whatever she was glaring at on her cell phone.
When Winters crossed the other side of the room, she pushed the dark drapes aside without any sort of warning and a glaring sunlight suddenly flooded in the room, making Alastor yelp in shock when it struck him square in the eyes, the light feeling like it was going to burn his retinas to ashes… or maybe that was his karma for staring too much at her legs.
(Totally worth it)
Wait… the sun was already up?
How long had he been asleep?!
“Oh? Oh, so you're awake,” he heard Winters remark, her tone far too casual for his heart to take as she settled the drapes back in place when she noticed him not-so-discreetly shielding his eyes away from the sun.
Alastor would have thanked her for being considerate if he still wasn't so confused. Don’t get him wrong, he’s still glad to be here (with her).
He scowled at his thoughts as he gingerly lowered his arm just in time to see Winters coming closer to pick up the husky from the bed, gently cradling the stuffed toy close to her chest with one hand, the other holding her phone loosely with the other as she stared down at him with those piercing eyes of her’s, completely oblivious to the fact that she looked so precious just standing there, almost looking like something that walked out of his dreams.
“…Would you like some water?” she finally asks when he failed to say anything, the phone blinking on and off on her other hand as her pointer finger keeps on tapping it, almost absentmindedly, “You'd probably need it after what happened last night.”
As if last night was a magic word, Alastor felt some of the memories hit him there and then with the intensity of a road-roller.
He remembered flashing lights, the laughing, the drinking–lots and lots of drinking–before he was dragged into the dance floor by some pretty girl that faintly reminded him of Winters but Winters suddenly showed up like a fucking ghost behind him, he and her kind of had an argument before he bawled and whined like a fucking baby and one thing led to another, they were dancing in some... forest (?) and somewhere around it, there was a hazy memory of her hugging him while whispering how she was sorry about... something? Wait. What was that something again?
Okay, that part felt important.
Something felt seriously way off… like there was a missing piece torn out of his mind. Alastor just knew he had missed something but… but what?
What is it?
Nothing, Alastor remembered literally nothing after that, no matter how much he tried to wrack his brain for a scrap of a memory, any hint of what could have led to this moment, for him to wake up in what seemed to be her room… her bed.
Instead, his traitor of a brain seemed to focus on the shit hole of an embarrassment he had been last night.
He can feel his face burning at those remarkably clear memories of how mortifying he had acted in front of her, suddenly wanting to hide underneath the thick fabrics and never come out (unless she coaxes him but that’s obviously never gonna happen) but excuse him; how the fucking hell did he ended up here, in her bed?!
OH GODS, HE SLEPT IN HER BED!
Before he can stop himself, Alastor gasped, “Did we fuck?!”
Because if they did and he doesn't even remember any of it–at least it explains why he woke up half-naked, which wasn’t really surprising for him since he often sleeps without a shirt on–then... Alastor was seriously going to ask her to punch him upside down the head or just, ahem, hopefully reenact what happened last night… pretty please with cherry on top.
Maybe that will give him his memories back. Not to take advantage of the situation but… yeah. But holy hell, their first time! Alastor almost wanted to scream at how unfair it was my memories, GIVE THEM BACK DAMN IT!
As if to shatter his wandering thoughts, Winters suddenly hurled her phone at him and Alastor let out an unholy screech when it struck him square on the face.
Holding his face, he glared up at her but immediately wilted when she gave him such an angry stare that he was sure if she looked at him a second more like that, he's going to start crying again like a little kid.
“What the hell is wrong with you?” Winters hissed, “Is that all you had in your head? What are you, a sex deviant or something?!”
“So...” Alastor blinked, picking up her cell phone next to him, warily offering it to her like he was in the presence of a cat about to bite his hand off (which did happened when he was a kid by the way), “You mean we didn't have sex?”
He wasn’t sure what kind of upbringing Winters had for a question like that seeming to sound so bizarre to her that Alastor immediately know the answer before she even choked the words out.
She looked so scandalized.
“Of course not!”
Shadows pooled beside her feet and Alastor almost thought she's going to chuck him in it too so she wasn’t going to deal with him ever again or fade into it as she always seemed inclined to do whenever he is in her presence.
But to his relief, she only proceeded to snatch her cell phone out of his hands, then in a gentler manner, placed the stuffed toy in to the shadows before it all blinked out of existence.
The room looked brighter almost instantly.
Oh, he thought dumbly as he continued to stare, his mind already racing, so that's how she carries her things, while the other part of his brain couldn’t stop getting over at the fact that holy shit, holy fuck, my mate sleeps with a stuffed puppy, she’s a cuddler! SHE’S A CUDDLER! HIS MATE IS A CUDDLEEEERRRR–!
“I… sorry for that,” Alastor immediately clenched his jaw to keep it dropping, whoa, what? “Well, I think I can see why you assumed. I mean, you did woke up half-naked and…” something that sounded quite a laugh but not quite broke past her lips and Alastor was sure that with how much he is seeing of her, he’ll cease to have the ability to be amazed by anything else after all is said and done by the end of the day.
A completely unaware Winters huffed out a breath, looking like she was trying to compose herself as she crossed her arms, looking a strange mix of amused and exasperated.
Meanwhile, Alastor wasn’t sure if he should be disappointed or relieved to know that nothing happened between them. But instead of wallowing at his loss, he threw his head back and forced out a laugh, shutting his eyes to stop her from seeing the pain in his eyes… or the sudden wave of tears that threatened to overcome him.
Is it back to square one?
“Oh, okay… cool, I was just curious,” his words were almost coming as a sting of incoherent frenzied rush as he smiled up at her, “I mean, it’s not like I was actually planning to sleep with anyone last night and… well, you know.”
At seeing the look on her face as he continued to embarrass himself, Alastor was once again tempted to hide in the covers and die.
Because for some reason, he couldn’t understand, he really felt like he had crossed a barrier last night but now that he was back to his senses, he suddenly felt awkward as hell around her at the consequences of his actions.
Fuck this shit.
It couldn’t possibly get any worse. But hey, on the bright side, at least Winters was talking to him properly now.
“So…” Alastor grinned, suddenly a bit cheered up at the thought, leaning as subtly as he can to her direction, “I take it you’re not a fan of clubbing?”
Winters blinks, those glorious eyelashes fluttering like his heart as she moves away (he instinctively stopped himself from reaching out, wait, I take that back, don’t go–!) only for her to lean right next to him against the bedside table, her elbow almost brushing his shoulder as she looked down at him.
“I just don’t like crowds in general,” she raises an eyebrow at him and if she noticed his momentary panic–which he was sure she did–she didn’t bother to comment on it, “…Why do you ask?”
And it was such a small, insignificant thing but Alastor couldn’t quite stop himself from gushing inside at the way was actually making an effort to keep the conversation going. He grinned giddily at her answer, so he was right! “Why the hell not? I’m pretty sure I embarrassed myself last night, I’m a chaotic drunk, after all.”
She smirks, “I can tell.”
Alastor quickly averts his eyes from her knowing gaze, feeling his ears grow warm almost instantly, chuckling weakly, “Yeah, so… I have to get even! It’s not fair, you know? Oh, and last night was embarrassing as it is, please forget about it!”
“No,” Winters automatically says without a hint of remorse as she pushes herself off of the bedside table, her head tilting to the side as she pushes her hair off of her shoulder and Alastor’s eyes immediately zoomed in to some of the inky black tattoos peeking on the back of her neck and down to the top of her spine when her oversized shirt droop a bit lower, almost teasingly as she moved, “…and if you’re going to interrogate me, do it once you’re decent.”
Here, up close, the tattoos looked like thin, swirling lines that he guesses must have been some sort of floral design, was it a petal or a stem?
Just how much tattoos does she have?
“Why?” Alastor asked, grinning and meeting her gaze easily like he hadn’t been ogling at the tattoos. He was curious what it was like as a whole, dang it! Is it a flower or a random swirl? “Am I distracting you?”
Without preamble, she turns to look at him dead in the eye, “Yes.”
Alastor immediately faltered, the deliberately playful grin completely wiped off of his face, feeling his entire face burn as he hastily pulls the covers up to his shoulders as she walks by, looking completely pleased with herself.
And Alastor wasn’t sure if he had dropped into some alternate universe while he was drunk. It was almost shameful how he couldn’t stop his sudden excitement at the idea of his mate not being immune to him as he had thought and she was being nice to him too, this is… this is progress, right?!
They’re having a perfectly normal conversation just now without any of them having to walk away, without an argument rearing its ugly head and… and they’re going to talk some more!
Despite how flustered he was, Alastor almost wanted to bury his face in one of her pillows, inhale and screech in glee.
This is practically a giant leap, people!
But still–
“Why was I naked?!”
He didn’t remember taking it off…
Did Winters–?!
“You ripped your shirt off in your sleep,” she answers smoothly, lingering by the doorway to look at him over her shoulder, “…I left some clothes in the bathroom earlier, William’s by the way. Hopefully, it’ll fit.”
Alastor grimaced, remembering how badly his first impression with her brother ended, “Uh is that alright with him?”
She made a vague gesture with her hand, “Meet me downstairs once you’re done. You missed breakfast. I’m not letting you miss lunch, too.”
He paused, staring at the back of her head with wide eyes, not having the capacity to reel in the way his face flushed alongside the sudden rush of his heart, the only noise he can hear. He genuinely felt like he was about to have a cardiac arrest in that one, frozen moment when he saw the tips of her ears become clearly tinged with a faint pink as she turned to walked away.
…Rest in peace, me.