The snowfall was getting worse, so they ended up boarding on the Tokyo Metro… although Proserpina had more than once suggested they make use of the shadows to get back before it’s too late, but Alastor insists on it.
They got on the train and Alastor sat next to Proserpina.
“I told you there’s too many people,” she hissed.
He winced, smiling sheepishly, “Oops…?”
That’s an understatement. Their arms brushed from time to time, knees literally knocking next to each other, more so with Alastor being bigger than her.
Strangely enough, despite how tall and muscular he is with just about anyone in here—no doubt, he can toss and smash the humans if he really wants, just because he can— Alastor looks sort of vulnerable as he glances at her, almost shyly.
This.
This is what always boggles her despite everything.
Alastor Nyx was literally the strongest person in the room and Proserpina still doesn’t get how he can manage to look so sweet and innocent as a helpless puppy. The saying you can’t judge a book by its cover rings true, after all.
Looks really are deceiving.
“You’ll make sure we’ll get off at our stop, right?” he asks, a boyish smile on his face as he rubs the back of his neck.
She only nods and that was all the confirmation he need before his eyes soon flutter shut, and his head was lolling back and forth with the motions of the train while Proserpina watches him carefully from the corner of her eyes, the way she usually does whenever they are in the same room. Probably since the first time she had seen him running around with the other werewolves under the rain.
It doesn’t even take long for him to fall asleep on the train ride back. In fact, she can most likely tell the moment he has fallen into a light slumber.
His breathing is deep and even, which is impressive because the Tokyo metro is rather loud and sort of cramped. There’s a lot of noise and Proserpina was sincerely glad that his sensitive ears aren’t bothered with the way the train screeches, an automated voice going on over through static and rust with every single stop. Maybe that’s why he went to sleep, to shut down and spare his eardrums the racket.
Come to think of it, Alastor really does fall asleep so easily compared to her and William, huh? Must be nice not to suffer on any form of sleeping disorders…
Alastor stirs and Proserpina averts her gaze.
It’s one of the many times she feels like she’s one step away from being caught doing something she shouldn’t be doing. Like longing for someone that was supposedly her’s.
A part of her, the one that is still the stupid little girl that never learns, suddenly wants to scream, and cry that this is not fair. She’s still young and yet she already went through and lost so much. She deserves to be happy too… doesn’t she?
Proserpina sighs.
It’s these fleeting moments of doubt and vulnerability, that she allows her mind to wander and think of Warren Veil and what he would have said, what he would have thought of Alastor had he lived. Had he been here. How that man deserves to be happy too, more than anyone else…
And now Alastor, she thinks of him, and how he seemed to be happy and living his life before they crossed paths. Even though Alastor told her once that he wasn’t happy back then. He just seemed like it.
…Is he happy now, then?
“Winters,” Alastor suddenly breathes out.
Her eyes met his, “Hm?”
“Nothing,” he shifts a bit in his seat, wincing at the sounds before looking over at the window, squinting a bit at the darkness as a hand pressed on the side of his head, “…Are we there yet?”
“Not yet,” she murmurs.
“Ugh, why does everything have to be so loud…”
“I told you we could just use the shadows…”
He pouted, “But that will end our date so quickly!”
She frowns, “But the noise bothers you right?”
“I’ll live,” he shrugs, “Besides, I like spending more time with you.”
Dark eyes traced over the innocence of a sun-kissed face, the warmth in his chocolate-colored eyes, and feeling the easy sincerity of his smile as he said those words so easily… and Proserpina couldn’t help but marvel just how candid and genuine Alastor could be.
With nothing better to say, Proserpina offered him her earphones. He’ll need it more than her, anyway. “Here. Put some music on. It’ll help with the noise. You can even go back to sleep.”
Alastor yawns and nods as he takes the offered item, plugging them on in his cell phone. Then, he inches closer and rests his head against Proserpina’s shoulder before putting on one of the earphones in his ear, the other held out for her, “Do you want to share?”
Proserpina keeps her eyes straight ahead and stills, doesn’t dare move or even look at him, practically buzzing underneath her coat and under the cold skin that hasn’t really known a kind touch.
A thick swallow and a damning thought.
She likes this.
It’s nice.
Warm breath tickles the small, exposed part of her neck when Alastor continues to talk underneath her chin, “I’m not really sure what kind of music you’re into but most of my playlists are either anime or instrumental, anyway…”
“It’s okay,” she voices out loud, her voice almost coming out as a meek whisper amidst the noise but considering Alastor’s easy shrug, he must have heard her just fine.
Amidst the comforting lull of his sleepy voice, Proserpina was suddenly struck with the desire of holding him closer. Close enough that if anyone so much as think to move the wrong way, they’ll be going through her shadows first.
With that thought in mind, Proserpina allows herself to slide down on her seat and Alastor presses closer, close enough that she can actually hear the gentle tune that he has on coming from her earphones.
She can feel her face growing warm, her heart pounding madly against her chest that Proserpina’s so sure Alastor can hear it and she suddenly feels ridiculously shy and foolish at the same time as she hides behind the collar of her coat.
Tilting her head, a little more to the right and her head lightly rests on top of Alastor’s. It’s been a long day… and in her defense, she’s a little tired, too.
When she woke up, he only laughs it off.
…Unsurprisingly, they missed their stop.
“Why didn’t you wake me up?” she demands, glaring up at him with no real heat in it. Because despite herself, she couldn’t bring herself to be really irritated.
“You looked like you needed some rest,” he says, eyes smiling.
. . .
“Love does not appear with any warning signs. You fall into it as if pushed from a high diving board. No time to think about what's happening. It's inevitable. An event you can't control. A crazy, heart-stopping, roller-coaster ride that just has to take its course.”
― Jackie Collins
. . .
“What are you thinking?” Alastor suddenly prompts as soon as they got back to their hotel room, his hand hovering over her face as if to her cup cheek, the warmth of his thumb ghosting across her skin.
She blinks, “Why do you ask?”
He hums, pointing at her. “You have that look on your face.”
She raises an eyebrow, “What look?”
“You’re staring somewhere ahead but you’re not really looking. Your brows are a bit furrowed, and you keep on blinking every few seconds to make it looked like you’re not staring but you are.” he clarifies and as if on cue, Proserpina found herself blinking again, “Something’s weighing on your mind.”
There is.
A lot of things, actually.
Proserpina only looks at him. Wonders how he can read her over something as limited as her facial expression. She wasn’t even the most expressive person there is. In fact, she strives to keep her expression as closed off as much as possible. So how is it that he knows more of her tells than she does? Why is he even paying attention to things like that?
He shifts, looking a bit embarrassed as he shoves his hands to his coat pockets, “You know you can talk to me if there something’s bothering you, right? I won’t judge. And if there’s anything I can do to help…”
Oh.
Oh, I see...
A warmth seeps across her chest, even as she holds back a shiver that has absolutely nothing to do with the cold. And it was so easy to finally just be honest.
“…I was thinking that I’d be lost without you.”
A faint look of surprise crosses his features.
Proserpina knows that she has caught him off guard there and then. She was, too. He visibly swallows and it takes him a moment before Alastor speaks up again, “Even if you hadn’t met me, I think you would've done something anyway,” he deflects, but the tone of his voice melts into air.
Somehow, Proserpina thinks she has never seen Alastor look as vulnerable as he did right now, not even with just about anyone had she seen him act like this.
He was usually so cocky, especially when she had first seen him with the other werewolves; or goofing around with William… she couldn’t help but feel humbled and flattered at the same time. That this strong, confident person could trust her enough to be vulnerable around her.
It's a vulnerability he shares with her.
And it's a vulnerability she knows she can share with him too.
In the sanctity of their shared space, the words suddenly slip from her mouth, unbidden, like a psalm, a forgotten, secret hymn. One that she has kept hidden away, even from herself, for so long that it was both foreign and familiar at the same time.
The words almost feel like a blessing, an incantation of wishes and wants. They lie heavy upon her tongue, but when finally spoken, they don’t weigh much in the air, belying their importance.
The scene and time wasn’t even anything particularly romantic or that important in the grand scheme of things. There was nothing dramatic or special, not even worth a second glance. They just got back from their so-called date that feels more like a friendly outing more than anything else.
But it was the little things that mattered.
Like the time Alastor would open and close the door for her, the time Alastor would stick close to the side of the road as if to keep her from harm. Charming but unnecessary.
Proserpina finds herself looking back on at the semblance of domesticity she gets to share with Alastor for these past few weeks and finds herself craving and cherishing it all with everything that she has, despite knowing it wouldn’t last.
Because this.
This is what she had been missing.
What she had lost.
Most people would say they love their partners because they make them feel special or something, but for Alastor, it's because he makes her feel normal. Human.
“Alastor,” Proserpina couldn’t stop herself from smiling when he suddenly turns away, as if to leave. As if expecting that was already the end of their conversation. He hums, turns with an unexpecting gaze over his shoulder, “…would you even believe me if I tell you now that I love you?”
Her tone may lack the reverence, but it is full of devotion.
And that’s all it needs.
Because even though death whispers to her ears, time and time again, warning her that this love is going to lead her to damnation, a tragedy even before it started. But that doesn’t matter to her.
She was already damned.
And his kind eyes and warm smile tells her otherwise, makes her want to believe that his love is a blessing. Her saving grace.
(But the even more undeniable fact is that by the time that fateful day comes, when the other half of her soul would have no choice but to leave her for the next realm, she doesn’t really see herself taking it with the grace of a saint.
Because Proserpina is not a saint.
She is a goddess and by her will, it will be done.)
Alastor blinks, caught in between surprise and a sudden stumble on the edge of the carpet. His brows raised as he glanced down at his feet and then at her. His cheeks burn, embarrassed and flustered at his own clumsiness, and Proserpina couldn’t quite stop herself from laughing at him.
She laughs and laughs until her gaze becomes clouded with tears. And as she blinks them away, she thinks, hysterically, that she must have gone mad.
“What the hell, Winters!” he fumes as he quickly regains his footing, “Don’t you laugh at me! You can’t just say things like that out of nowhere–!” Alastor immediately takes in a sharp breathing, cutting himself and looks at her in the eye.
And despite the very obvious flush on his cheeks, his eyes were bright and warm, delighted. Genuine, straightforward in the way that easily made her want to love him.
“I love you too,” he tells her.
Because when Alastor says it, he makes the words sounds so simple. Almost as easy as saying hello… even though Proserpina cannot help but hear and think of final goodbyes.