The pain was immense from the open gash in Alastor's chest, held together only by his own will. Adam was dead, thanks to Niffty, and one less asshole Alastor had to get back at.

Still, it hurt more than anything he'd ever felt before. A growl rumbled free as he drank some whiskey, glaring at the wound.

The door to his room opened and you poked your head in, "Al? Everything okay?"

"You shouldn't be here, darling." Alastor's ears went down, "I'm drinking."

Not that he was ever horrible when he drank, but he was, at the very least, a gentleman. He didn't like when you saw him drink. Or smoke.

"And haven't I told you before to knock?" The cigarette in his fingers was quickly stubbed out.

You looked away, like a child being scolded, "Do you want me to leave?"

Having you leave wouldve been for the best. You were the only one at the hotel that knew of Alastor's injury, and he didnt necessarily want you to be privy to his pain.

But... you had become something decent to be around.

"No. You can stay. Come in, my dear. Close the door before someone walks by."