You thought that everyone working an office job was just another Stanley. Your average cup-o-joe, the boring type of people stuck on their fatasses and too lazy to work and sort of real job requiring manuel labor. Until you met Alastor.

I mean, sure, he’s got a fat ass, but he sure isn’t stuck on it. He strides around the workplace with a warm smile and welcoming energy that lets you know that this job was just made for him. Everyone loves him, he’s on task (most of the time) and he’s not too far looked down upon by the higher ups.

But to be honest, you barely paid any attention to what he said during that presentation. You were too busy staring at the new peircings he just got. They make you hunger for him like he appears to hunger to hunger for lunch every day. He stares at the clock everytime 12:00 approaches, like a dog waiting for his owner to get home, tail-wagging and all.

You’ve just finished as extraordinarily boring email when you felt how dry your throat is. You get up, pushing your spinny chair back. Everyone else is hunched over thier screens like shrimp as they work their souls away for who you can only assume is the devil.

Taking a cup from the side table close to the exit you fill it st the drinking fountain when you hear a hearty laugh behind you holding a small cup of his own. “You ‘ad an awful eye for staring at my new angel fangs. Is that right?” Alastor grins behind you, he towers you, even if you meet him at eye height he just feels bigger, obviously “What’s your name, starin’ stranger?”