I like you.
…I like you, she says, a lot.
Those words sounds too good to be true.
He swallows, feeling the sting of a tear in his eye as he blinks, trying to will them away from falling. It was unsuccessful, because Alastor can still feel one, traitorous tear languidly dripping on his cheek. Winters gently catches it with the back of her hand, looking equal parts concerned and confused, “Why… are you crying?”
“…you’re pulling on my leg, are you?”
She blinks, staring at him for a moment, looking genuinely taken aback now. “…You don’t believe me,” she says, at length. As if in disbelief.
“You make it hard to,” Alastor quips.
“But I do like you,” Winters insists, looking like she doesn’t even know what else to say at that, has absolutely no idea what those words actually does to him, “…isn’t that what you wanted to hear?”
It is. It’s what he wanted to hear.
So why does it feel wrong, like it was one of his dreams yet again? Like this wasn’t happening? Wasn’t even real?
Why then, does he suddenly feel so… so anxious?
How many years had Alastor even longed to hear those words? To know that he had a mate who cared. That he was loved? “I told you I can wait, didn’t I?” he asks, his voice almost cracking with emotion, “You don’t have to lie to me if you feel pressured–”
“And I am perfectly aware of what I just told you,” Winters bit out, leaning away, as if burnt, “If you don’t believe me, fine. Forget it.”
“Wait!” his hand hastily shot out, clamping on her arm, instinctively stopping her from walking away from him. Again. “Look, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to sound like a jerk. It’s just… you startled me. That literally came out of nowhere!”
She scoffs.
He scowls, “Well, what was I supposed to do? How do you want me to react? Huh? Winters? A second ago, I was only making muffins and you popped out of the blue–”
“You were banging your head on the counter–”
“That’s not the point!” Alastor cut in, deliberately not wanting to talk about how she had caught him in a middle of an existential crisis, “You… you don’t get to tell me you suddenly liked me, as in like-like—”
Her brows furrowed, “What do you mean ‘suddenly’?”
“B-but just now you…!”
“Don’t you put words in my mouth, Alastor,” she snapped, shoving his hand off of her arm, “I’ve liked you since I saw you playing with the dogs. I liked you ever since I told you that you can stay with me.”
“That…” he gaped, “That was fucking weeks ago!”
She gave him a look, “Yes…?”
“You mean to tell you’ve liked me ever since?!”
Her cheeks flushed, “And what’s your point?”
“…the point is, you’re only telling me this now,” Alastor bemoaned, rubbing at his face wearily with two hands as he practically collapses back on his seat, “Why? Why are you only telling me this now?!”
She huffs, “You don’t even believe me when I did.”
“I was caught off guard!” he protested.
“Like I wasn’t when you first showed up and suddenly started to aggressively flirt out of nowhere?!” Winters retorted, glaring down at him.
“I already said I was sorry!”
She only rolls her eyes at that, crossing her arms and turning to glare at the open window instead with a faint huff, glowering at the way the bright skies of orange and pink steadily turns dark. And somewhere far away, the glittering stars become more and more visible to the naked eye.
Night is approaching.
And for a long moment, they both didn’t say anything… until Winters suddenly shifts in her spot, nose twitching like a baby rabbit’s before she tilted her head to look at him again.
“Alastor?”
“What,” he grumbles, voice muffled by his hands.
“…The muffins smell like they’re burning.”
Alastor stares at her for a moment, doesn’t comprehend, doesn’t processed what the hell she just—then it hit him. He can feel his face turning white as a sheet of paper.
“Oh, shit–!”
At the next second, if it was even possible, Alastor can feel his face turning red in sheer embarrassment as he all but jumps out of his seat to take out the muffins (that he had all but forgotten) with her soft chuckles ringing faintly in his ears, more so when he accidentally touched the tray without wearing kitchen mitts, jerking back with a particularly nasty curse.
It took her less than a minute to stop laughing at him while it took him more than five minutes to at least salvage the rest of the muffins. And another five more until he was able to finally talk to Winters again.
“I wasn’t lying when I said I didn’t mind being friends… or at least, if we start there. Things like this had to start from somewhere, after all,” Alastor admitted, not bothering to face her as he shuts down the oven, “Because there’s… there’s got to be more to us than this—than just being mates. There has to be.”
“‘There has to be,’” Winters repeats, slowly, softly, as if savoring the words in her tongue, “It sounds as if you’re attempting to make yourself believe that. Aren’t ‘just being mates’ already enough for you?”
Alastor considers that, “It used to.”
“And it’s not anymore?”
This time, he looks at her in the eye.
“…No.”
Because I want us to be more than that.
Not only as a mate. Not only as a friend. I also want to be a part of your family, too. I want to be the person that you can talk to with important things and not so important things. I want to be the one who makes you smile when you think of me. I want to be a source of strength rather than as an addition to your seemingly never-ending lists of worry. And I want that for you, too…
I want you to be loved.
Her lips curled, dark eyes softening as though she can hear the rest of his unspoken words. “You know, you never struck me as the greedy sort.”
“Eh. But maybe I am,” Alastor shrugs, not daring to look away from her. “Or maybe I am an idiot just trying to convince myself of wanting more than what I can have. And you know what? Maybe you’re right; maybe this is all gonna blow up in my face some day, but...”
He remembers the first night of September, standing on the open field and rain within the sea of his kind and nymphs alike from the far corners, watching and cheering, eyeing him and the rest of his kin like salivating dogs and them, the tastiest of meat. It was when Alastor finally realized what he had felt upon seeing his mate for the first time: like something he’d been waiting, so unknowingly for so long that it had somehow become forgotten, a secret even to himself… some sort of waiting had finally come to pass. Something that he had been searching for his whole life had found him instead.
He thinks of the consequences of having her as a mate. The god of the underworld’s wrath. The threat of monsters. But in spite of everything, walking away now doesn’t seem like it would be anything other than a loss…
And Alastor wasn’t really the type to run away.
Before Winters, before knowing that his twin brother was, in fact, still alive, he had honestly thought he’d been living with loss and grief, with waiting and hoping for something—someone—to appear, but now…
Now Alastor knows.
He knows cozy nights stuck binge-watching anime and films with her sleep-deprived little brother. He knows that she likes watching him bake in the oddest hours because her work schedule is mind-boggling.
He knows how much she likes to read but doesn’t really have the time to these days because two of her bedrooms that he had the pleasure of sleeping in are filled to the brim with shelves of them, ranging from classical novels to modern, fiction and non-fiction.
He also knows strange, brief conversations with more silence than words because sometimes his mate doesn't really want to talk and sometimes she can't, her thoughts more like a fortress with several defense mechanisms, traps, and locks and she's thrown the keys away for so long that she no longer knows where to look for to open up.
He knows that she’s even quicker to get amused these days, that William can’t always help his own smiles, either. That despite their situation, the two of them could still find joy in the littlest of things.
Alastor knows what he’d be losing.
What he’d be missing.
And the moment he’d learned what Winters was, who she was—mate, goddess, the other half of his soul—Winters Veil had easily become something Alastor Nyx couldn’t bring himself to lose.
“…I just wanna see where this goes,” Alastor finishes.
Winters doesn’t answer.
Doesn’t say anything to that.
“By the way…” he rubs at the back of his head, suddenly feeling very self-conscious at her stare, “Your ribbon. You know, the one I took when we first met? It’s… well, it’s still with me. I know I was supposed to give it back–”
“No,” says Winters.
“No?” he blinks.
“You can keep it.”
And Alastor could have sworn he hears them, the words behind the words. What his mate is really trying to say: I want to see where this is going, too.
. . .
“The shadow of love is all around us. So, it may be too easy to get caught in the fuss; because once that happens who's to say if you or I knew true love anyway?”
―Marcus Alan Mercer
. . .
As far as he recalled, no weather forecast had reported snow for the coming days… except it was seriously kind of expected with how cold it’s beginning to get.
That’s why Alastor felt like the goddess of luck was smiling down upon him for once when he caught sight of the surprise just falling out the window. Winters must have seen him grinning like an idiot too (because of course she did).
“What is it?” she asks, her head already turning to look.
Recognition had only just melted the frown off of her face and turned into a ghost of a smile when Alastor beams at her, “It’s the first snowfall! Wanna go out on a walk with me?”
“But… it’s getting dark…”
“So?”
Bemusement flickered over her face before she shook her head, almost helplessly, as a faint chuckle escapes her lips, expression softening entirely as she looks on at the sight of falling snow outside.
“Go get your coat first.”
Alastor’s feet was already taking him out of the room before she even gets to finish that sentence, “It’s a date then!”
Luckily, Alastor still had his coat out at the ready, hanging by the back of his chair (Winters or William must have left it there following what he had mentally dubbed as the ‘Cupid’s-Arrow-Incident’), along with his scarf; a handknitted dark brown fabric that goes quite well with most of his clothes, making him perk up as he hastily grabs them all with him.
He was in the middle of buttoning his coat up half-way when he felt his cellphone vibrating inside his pocket, making him scowl in irritation. A phone call? Seriously? Now?!
“What?”
“Hi, it’s Alistair…”
“What did he do this time?” Alastor asks, frowning.
“What? No! I mean it’s actually me, Alistair!”
“Oh, okay. So, what did you do this time?”
“Dude!” his twin whines in protest, and Alastor couldn’t quite stop himself from smirking at his reflection on the mirror, “Between us two, you’re the troublemaker!”
“Nuh-uh, I’ll have you know that I’m officially a changed man.” Alastor says, chuckling a bit as he carries on with the buttons with his other hand.
“Yeah, right… so what’s up?”
Alastor rolls his eyes, “The sky, genius.”
“Har, har,” his twin snarks. From the distance, Alastor could have sworn he can hear Harry yelling at Sean for seconds or something along the lines, Lizzie’s bright voice chiming in from time to time. Are they eating over at Sean’s right now? “…You know what I mean. What are you up to these days? How’s your mate?”
A smug smile crawls at his lips at that.
“Actually,” Alastor began, “…I asked her out.”
“Just now? Buddy, it’s been weeks.”
“So what?” Alastor huffs, picking up his scarf next.
“Oh,” Alistair mutters, almost sadly, “I’m so sorry…”
“Huh?” Alastor paused in the midst of wrapping his scarf around himself, his nerves feeling like they were buzzing, suddenly on edge. Nothing ever good comes from that kind of tone… “For what? Why?”
“Well, I assumed she said no…”
“No, stupid head!” he snapped, his voice coming out a touch fiercer than he intended. Alastor suddenly felt like he just lost a much-needed brain cell, “And for your information, she said yes. We’re heading out now actually…”
“Really?” his twin asked, visibly perking up.
“Yes Al, really,”
“Then, I feel sorry for her.”
Alastor deadpanned, “Was that all?”
“Nah, just checking on my little brother…”
“You’re like, only five minutes older–”
“Still counts~!”
“Whatever. I’ll call you later, okay?”
“Yeah, sure, go have fun with your little date—but not too much fun. And please be nice to Proserpina! Oh, and also tell her I said hi…” Alastor rolls his eyes, a faint smile twitching at his lips despite himself, “Hey, you guys! Al’s on the phone, come say bye!”
“Already?” Harry whines, “Fine. Bye-bye, jackass!”
“Bye, Alastor…” Sean’s calm voice.
“Bye!” Lizzie chirps.
Alastor soon left his room with a smile on his face, but not before giving his reflection a wink and a flying kiss.
For much needed good luck, of course.
“Shall we?” Winters asks, placing her gloves on.
He nods, “Yeah, sure. Let’s.”
Opening the door for her, they step outside.
Together.