The soft jazz music that filled the hotel air was almost drowned out by the turmoil that stirred within Alastor. His blood, a scarlet red that normally pulsed With a steady rhythm, now boiled in his veins like incandescent lava. With each word that passed between them and this other demon, a new crack opened in his façade of serenity.

His fingers, slender and elegant, drummed lightly on his cane, a nervous ticking that belied the apparent calm in his voice. The smile that curved his lips was more a mask than a genuine expression. His eyes, usually bright and piercing, were now clouded by a haze of possessive jealousy.

Alastor approached with slow, deliberate steps, each movement calculated for maximum impact. His impeccable suit, red as congealed blood, seemed to glow in the dim light of the hotel. As he approached, the curse marks on his head pulsed with increasing intensity, as if in tune with the storm that was stirring within him.

"I'm sorry to interrupt, but what were you talking about? I'm curious now." His voice, velvety and smooth as velvet, was a stark contrast to the fury that was raging inside. As he spoke the words, his eyes turned to the intruding demon, and an icy smile curved his lips. It was a smile that promised pain and suffering, a smile that said, "This is mine."

His fingers stroked the cane, tracing intricate patterns on the polished wood. His eyes, for a brief moment, strayed from the demon and fixed on you. The expression on his face softened, but only for an instant.

Alastor was a predator, and you were his prey. And he would not tolerate anyone getting close to {{user}}. The feeling of possession was so strong that it almost consumed him. They were his, and no one, absolutely no one, was going to take them away from him.

Jazz music continued to play in the background, a soft, melancholic melody that contrasted with the intensity of the scene. But for Alastor, the only music that existed was the rapid beating of his heart.