Alastor isn’t sure if he can face his mate again or for her to look at him the same way without remembering last night’s insanity.
And yeah, sure, Alastor was aware that he basically had spelled out the fact that he really, really likes her (as in, wanted to be in a real romantic relationship with her but what else is new with that?!) even before they had agreed to settle down with him staying with her and her brother for the meanwhile but there was no rush.
He had even insisted that he was fine with their set-up, with them being just friends—for the meantime—because Winters was clearly not looking for anything like that at the moment.
Then, this shit happens.
And it’s more likely than not that the gods of love’s influence has made things incredibly awkward between them.
Talk to her, William said.
Talk to her… and then what?
What was there to even say?!
Alastor can’t even pass off anything that he said last night as some sort of prank or his usual half-flirting, half-teasing banter around her that had somehow become their norm. Not when it was obvious that he clearly meant every single thing that he just said to her.
And what’s worse, there were witnesses.
William was bad enough but the other–
…Oh, gods.
EVEN THE GOD OF WINE SAW HIM!
“Damn it,” Alastor bemoaned as he slammed his head on the countertop for what felt like the nth time, lurching back up again to groan as he rubbed wearily at his aching forehead while he waits for his muffins to be ready. He did remember promising to make some baked goods for William, after all.
They can also be used for bribing material.
No, wait. Not cool.
Because judging by how William acts earlier, even muffins might not be able to sway the kid’s sweet tooth… well fuck, there goes his last resort. Alastor slammed his head again for cooking up another useless idea.
“Fuck…” he muttered.
What Alastor really needs at the moment is some more alone time with his thoughts. Because if he thinks about it, really thinks about it, maybe just maybe he can find another way. Maybe he can make himself believe that it’s really not so bad or—
“What are you doing?” Winters suddenly demanded, watching him lurch (and practically proceed to jump a few feet in the air before proceeding to trip right over his chair) after face-planting on the counter again.
“OH, FUCK ME!” Alastor screeches, his soul practically leaving right out of his body when his brain saw, finally registered his mate sitting right in front of him with her fingers interlaced together to prop her head up, looking like she had been there some time…. because seriously what—what the hell?
How long had she been there?!
“No, thank you,”’ Winters said, dryly.
“S… sorry. You startled me,” Alastor says numbly at that, his mind still reeling from being on the verge of having a concussion and a heart attack not even two seconds ago. And when he finally dares to look at her in the eye, his barely recovered heart suddenly feels like about to drop down from his chest.
Dark hair, dark eyes and a pale, pretty face.
His heart is not going to survive this, is it?
“H-hi,” Alastor stammers out, “Good evening.”
Her lips quirked as she nodded at him. That same, barely-there smile that does things to his heartstrings making its once in a blue moon appearance.
“Good evening,” she greeted back.
. . .
“Sometimes you grow to love the shadow that follows.”
— Donna Lynn Hope
. . .
For a moment, they don’t say a word after that.
This is the first time they saw each other since…
S-since… last… night…
And at the sudden lull, William’s words immediately floated right back at the forefront of Alastor’s mind, the kid’s curt voice sounding so loud and clear, making him twitch a bit nervously in his seat.
Talk to her, he said.
But talking to Winters would certainly lead to acknowledging whatever Alastor just word-vomited on her while he was completely high on whatever love-juice the god of love’s arrows had drugged him with last night. And maybe it’s a conversation Winters doesn’t really want to have at the moment because Alastor seriously isn’t sure as hell ready to talk about it.
Because he remember… the bar, the alcohol addled up in his system as he insisted that they don’t have to be more than friends if she wants. He remembered insisting that whatever they are can remain platonic.
He remembered the promise, the sad smile on her face.
And while Alastor wouldn’t mind them taking it slow, he thinks he wouldn’t really like it if Winters was somehow compelled (or even peer-pressured) to ‘like’ him because of the god and goddess of love interfering with whatever they have at the moment.
That’s not love.
Love isn’t something to be forced.
It’s supposed to be natural, forged by time, tempered by mutual respect and trust between two people who genuinely cared about each other. That’s why Alastor doesn’t mind starting out as friends (or housemates) with her, because he had been hoping for her to see him more than as something to be infatuated with.
He had waited for years to know if he even had a mate, after all. He wouldn’t mind waiting for another few years for her to get comfortable around him if that’s what it takes.
He was willing to wait.
It’s okay. He’s fine with that…
Surprisingly, it is Winters who breaks the silence first.
“Last night…” she begins.
Aaaaand just like that, the scraps of whatever calm Alastor had barely secured and been armoring himself with suddenly shattered like glass.
“R-right!” Alastor refused to believe he honest to gods squeaked because he most certainly did not. No freaking way. “L-last night… yeah, I… uh… look, I’m really sorry about last night,” he immediately blurted out before she could go on because he’s seriously not ready to hear more what she has to say about how stupid he had acted in front of her. Again.
Besides, he figured he might as well get over with it.
Her only response was a slow blink.
Well, fuck.
…Is this working or not?
Talk to her, my foot.
William, you’re bad at giving people advice!
Or maybe the kid should have seriously advised them to go get some couple’s therapy or something because they both clearly needed it!
Even if they weren’t really a couple…
Alastor hurriedly cleared his throat, “I mean… look, in my defense, I really wasn’t myself last night because of—w-well, you know… but it’s not really an excuse if I seriously made you or the kid uncomfortable back there. I’m really sorry that you guys have to listen to all that shit. Anyone would be really creeped out, yeah? Please just forget about it. I’d really appreciate it if we just pretend that did not just happened.”
Winters frowned, “But I…”
“It’s okay!” he waved his hands up immediately, his face hurting quite a bit at how widely he was forcing himself to smile at her, “I swear! We don’t have to talk about it. If you don’t want to. I don’t—I’m not expecting an answer… or a-anything like that, I mean. Really. Look, I… wouldn’t be bothered by it. Please don’t think too much on whatever I just said–”
“Because you don’t mean it?”
“NO!”
Winters had been staring down at the counter for some time during the course of his rambling with a distinctly blank look on her face but at his sudden screech, her gaze instantly snapped up in surprise.
Shit.
“I mean… well, of course I mean it! But you know I wasn’t seriously in the right head space during all that, right?” he nods, almost to himself. “Right.”
Fuck. Fuckitty-fuck. Why is Winters looking more dismayed the longer he opens his mouth? Was it something he said? What on earth was he even saying?! Someone, anyone, please make him stop talking, don’t let him make this worse!
He hesitates for a moment, before he decides, you know what? Screw it. “Look, I don’t want to play the blame game right now but… yeah, this is definitely Aphrodite’s fault. And Eros too.”
For some reason, Alastor thinks he shouldn’t be dissing two deities of love at the same time out loud… but whatever. It’s not like his love life is going smooth sailing, no thanks to them. In fact, it just got worse because of them!
Winters must also be thinking something along the lines because she gives him such a disapproving look before shaking her head a bit.
“That’s not it,” she says.
And Alastor tries not to look like a very guilty moron at that, “Oh, so… so you do w-want to talk about it? Sure. Okay, cool. Cool, cool, cool, cool. That’s cool. No problemo. We can do that. We can just talk. Let’s talk. Ah, shit. I’m making this worse, aren’t I—?”
Winters suddenly reaches out across the table to place a gentle hand on Alastor’s chin. And his mouth immediately snaps close with a particularly embarrassing loud click.
Because it was something Alastor has come to pick up about her very quickly from close observation is that Winters actually prefers to initiate physical contact (in William’s case, she definitely doesn’t mind using his head as an armrest whenever he’s seated or leaning against him) but is not a fan of having it sprung on her without a warning… that’s why Alastor only hovers or stayed as close as he can or only goes right at her space whenever he thinks he can get away with it.
Touch is a complicated concept but also something very important when it comes to his mate. Hell, most of the time she does touch something, she’s still wearing gloves. Like a barrier. Or some sort of shield.
Wait.
She’s not wearing gloves–
“Alastor?”
“Y-yeah…?”
“Breathe,” she reminds him.
He wasn’t even aware that he was about to hyperventilate. And as Alastor silently takes a deep breath, his face feeling absurdly warm as he inhales, exhales for a few moments as she calmly retracted her hand.
She has tattoos on the back of her hands too.
“I just wanted to inform you that I don’t mind what you said. As a matter of fact,” Winters continues, interlacing her fingers again to rest her chin on her knuckles before Alastor can make sense of the familiar-looking flower depicted on her skin. Is it the same design he had seen on her back? “…I am already aware even before then. So please, stop worrying about it. It doesn’t really bother me.”
The timer suddenly started acting up but both Alastor and the goddess of shadows made no move to quiet it down or even react as they stared at one another.
“So … you’re okay with …b-because you… you already know,” Alastor uneasily swallows, suddenly feeling very self-conscious at her piercing stare, “It’s because of that one time I made a fool out of myself when I got drunk, isn’t it?”
Her eyes widened a fraction, “You remember.”
It wasn’t a question.
“Yeah…” he still answered, nodding.
She tilts her head, ever so slightly, looking equal parts surprised and relieved as she appraised him for a quiet moment, “…I was beginning to wonder if you never will.”
“So that’s the big secret?”
“Not really. But it’s one of them.”
He huffs, his voice coming out a bit lighter at the easy admission, “Oh man, I knew I was so wasted but compared to how I acted back then, it was completely nothing worse like last night!”
She shrugs, “Hm…”
“Is that really all you have to say?”
“Last night was scary,” she relents.
“Why do you have to keep that conversation a secret though? Compared to me, it’s not like you did anything embarrassing for that matter,” Alastor wheedles, curiously.
He didn’t really remember all of it to be honest, but he thinks he remembered enough to get the picture of what happened… he just couldn’t understand why in some of them, Winters looked really sad while she was promising to let him stay with her though.
And had Alastor not been looking at her, he would have missed the way she bodily tensed up, her lips curling into a pained-looking grimace.
His stomach suddenly churned uneasily.
“Hold on,” Alastor told her, already standing up and turning away to go get the muffins just a few steps behind him before they burned for real or something, William’s going to chew him out for real if the muffins turned up looking like coals. “I’ll just–”
“I was angry. I don’t like having a mate,” she admitted.
“Oh,” he swallowed the sudden lump that formed at his throat at that, suddenly very glad that Winters couldn’t see the hurt he was definitely sure was written all over his face, “I see. I’m s—”
“…because the moment I get to be with you, it feels like instead of meeting someone new, it was like remembering an old friend I never knew I had all over again. You have no idea how frustrating it was for me to trust you so easily while I couldn’t even believe in myself. I… I wanted to tell you everything,” Winters confessed, expelling a heavy sigh at the end, one that sounded like defeat, like it came from somewhere deep within her heart.
And Alastor’s head snaps to look back at her, a bit awed and thrilled because this is probably one of the very few times he had heard her talk a lot in one go.
She stares back at him, eyes wide, as if even she was surprised with her words herself, but when he didn’t—couldn’t bring himself to—say anything, she hurriedly added: “But I didn’t know how, or when, or even if I should talk at all because I was… scared that you wouldn’t want to stay if you knew what kind of trouble you’re signing up for once you get involved. I don’t want to burden you with my problems. It’s not fair and you don’t deserve that. Because, if only you knew that… I… I just don’t want to get my hopes up once I get too attached because I will and I… I can’t.”
“Can’t what?” Alastor asked, already guessing the answer.
She visibly swallows, doesn’t say anything.
He smiled, gently, “I’m still here, aren’t I?”
“Yes,” she nods, “And I’m… very grateful for that.”
“Winters, you know I never wanted to rush you I–”
“You didn’t.”
Alastor sucked in a breath, awed.
“…and you still wonder why I couldn’t bring myself to trust you?” a harsh, wet sounding laugh escaped her lips, “Everyone that I have met usually wanted me for something. You are probably the only one who wanted me for me—and you have no idea how frightening that is because I don’t even like myself.”

His eyes widened, his heart feeling like it was about to shatter at that, “I… didn’t mean to scare you, Winters. I told you we can still stay friends, right? If you want…? Please–” just don’t leave me.
Alastor had waited for so long to know if his mate existed. He had always wanted to meet her, be with her before he even get to know her name. He’d rather freeze and starve to death, than go back to being lonely. He can’t go back to simply living like that. He can’t. Please, Winters. Don’t make me go back.
“No, I… I am so sorry for worrying you, Alastor.” he hurriedly stomped down his mounting panic at that, “It’s okay. We… we’re okay. I already promised that we’d stay together if that’s what you want.”
“Then why didn’t you just say so?”
A ragged sigh, one that came out muffled as she dragged down her marked hand over her face (and Alastor can see that the tattoo is a spider lily), fingers sharply digging over pale skin as she did so, and Alastor had a half in mind to pull her hand away just in case she truly hurt herself.
“We’re both really bad at this talking thing, aren’t we?” Alastor commented, shoulders hunching as he wearily leaned back against the wall, “But at least… we’re trying, right?”
“Right,” she exhaled, her voice coming out as a whisper.
“Let’s try again: why didn’t you just tell me?”
For a moment, with how quiet his mate had suddenly become, practically a statue if it weren’t for the way he can still hear her breathing, Alastor almost thought she wasn’t going to answer but– “…I wanted to see for myself if I can trust you.”
“Have I earned it then?”
Winters has always looked so immaculate, so in control to Alastor whenever he looked at her. It was one of the many things he admired about her. But seeing the weariness in her eyes now made his heart ache.
“I know that I can trust you,” she murmured, so quietly under her breath, he almost didn’t hear her, “I swear, I wanted to. That’s most probably why I made things much more complicated than they already are as is because… because I am not used to people other than my brother to genuinely care about me, let alone my well-being without expecting something else in return.”
“What were you hoping to gain by keeping that as a secret then? What was the point of all that?” he prompted, arms crossing as his fingers aimlessly drummed on the crook of his elbow.
“Nothing.”
His fingers halted, “Nothing?”
“It… it was on reflex, keeping secrets was practically instinct for me at this point.” Winters looked away as something like guilt flashed over her face, there and gone, “I never meant nor wanted to deceive you.”
“Okay,” he nodded, “I understand.”
Doesn't mean I'm going to agree with that, but…
I do understand.
“Alastor, I… I’m so sorry your mate had to be someone so messed up. That it has to be me. Because you,” Winters swallowed inaudibly, and even Alastor could tell she couldn’t quite meet his gaze now, “You …you deserved better.”
He scoffs at the words, “Better… like what?”
That sad look in her eyes again, the same look she had on her face on the night he got drunk, or whenever she thinks he’s not looking. “…not this broken mess of a person like me, for sure.”
How many times had Alastor thought of himself to be undeserving of being her mate? How long had he thought himself to be the one blessed to have her as his other half? To think that her own thoughts practically mirrored his as well…
It made her more relatable in his eyes, more endearing…
He slowly approached her, gently grabbed her fingers digging at her cheek, easily directing her gaze back to him, “Winters. Listen to me. You are so many things but broken isn't one of them.”
…and it made her all the more beautiful to him.
“You don’t know that.” she muttered.
“And you are everything that I could ever have hoped for.”
Both William and Winters are so used to keep the windows shut tight, but Alastor had the curtains drawn aside earlier… and he didn’t regret it one bit. Because outside, as the sky continues to burn red and pink and orange with the setting sun, its shifting colors splashes an ethereal glow in the kitchen, casting an enchanting shine amidst her shiny eyes, wide and clearly taken aback.
“I’m willing to wait, Winters. I’ll wait until you tell me if I have a chance,” Alastor tells her, gripping her wrist gently enough for her to pull away if she wants to but firm enough to make her listen, “I want to see where this goes so… so, if it’s alright with you, I intend to stick around.”
“…then you’re in luck because I don’t think you have to wait for that long,” Winters says as her other hand rest against his own as she almost shyly peers right back at him.
A nervous laugh bubbled from his lips, “W-what?”
“I already told you back then, didn’t I? I don’t mind if it’s going to be you,” Alastor wasn’t sure if Winters was blushing or it’s because of the colors of the setting sun playing against her skin when she suddenly leaned close enough for their nose to brush, “…I like you too, Alastor Nyx. A lot.”