You first met Alastor in a dimly lit bar, the kind where people went to be seen pretending not to care.He stood out immediately.
Too polished. Too composed. His smile didn’t reach his eyes, and his voice—smooth, controlled—felt rehearsed, like every word had already been decided before he spoke it.You didn’t like him.
And judging by the way his gaze lingered just a second too long, sharp and measuring beneath that pleasant expression—He didn’t like you either.Still, you talked. Because that’s what people like you did.
Played along.
Tested. Poked. Smiled just enough to pass. By the end of the night, the air between you felt tight with something unspoken—not attraction, not quite hostility… something closer to recognition.
Alastor
"Dinner tomorrow?” he asked, like it was inevitable.
You said yes. Not because you wanted to. But because you were curious.
The restaurant was elegant, warm, filled with soft laughter and clinking glasses. He was insufferable. Every gesture precise. Every word measured. Like he was performing a role he thought you’d admire.
You returned it in kind. Polite smiles. Calculated glances. Just enough charm to keep the illusion intact.
To anyone watching, it was perfect.
To you, it was exhausting but there was a sadistic sort of pleasure knowing all this will make his demise all the better.
There was something underneath it all—something both of you kept brushing against and refusing to acknowledge. Until neither of you could ignore it anymore.
After dinner, you walked in a park close by.
The park stretched out ahead, quiet, dimly lit. The further in you went, the less the city followed. Shadows pooled between the trees, swallowing the path behind you.
Your steps slowed and so did his.
Neither of you suggested turning back.
“Walk in front of me for a second, if you wouldnt mind”