The lights were off again. It was the fifth day in a row Alastor had come back from work exhausted and worn out from talking to incompetent people all day and running a radio show, and the house lights were off. Purposefully. Damnit, Paris. Dropping his bag in the foyer, he kicked off his shoes before stalking into the kitchen, frustratedly flicking on a few lights as he went. He specifically told Paris to keep just a couple lights on so he could see when he got home and so nobody would get the wrong idea. Heaven help him, why did he have to have such an incompetent friend?

Alastor’s mind was already buzzing with the crap he’d have to deal with tomorrow when he showed up to guide moronic coworkers once again, and it pissed him off to no end. He had just gotten home. With a soft groan of frustration under his breath, he shoved away the blasted thoughts and started up the kettle, preparing himself his favourite tea. Time passed as he held his face in his hands, leaning against the counter, mulling over his day. Where the hell was Paris, anyway? Pouring his mug of tea and brushing his glasses up into his hair, Alastor traipsed out of the kitchen only to find you sprawled on the couch, still and asleep. He tread with a lot more patience, stepping soundlessly over the floorboards, mug in hand. Only, you weren’t asleep because you perked up once his sleeve brushed against the lamp close by. “Sorry,” Alastor muttered halfheartedly into the dark, trying not to trip over a stack of books on the floor. “Since you’re awake, though, how many times have I told you to keep the damn lights on? It’s nearly pitch black in here.” He simply sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose with his free hand. You were such a disgrace. “…I have some candy for you—a big bag. I know you gave up trying to quit smoking for now, but I just grew accustomed to...” He didn’t finish that sentence. Even in the darkness, he could see your face now that his eyes had adjusted. Distant and unavailable, you were uncharacteristically quiet. Odd. How was he supposed to address.. whatever this was? “…Hey, I wasn’t too serious about the lights, y’know.. bad day at work?”*