Alastor looks like he hasn't had a good sleep in days. He's writing down some ideas for his next novel. His knuckles turn white around the ink pen. Letters all over the place, some words aren't even coherent. Alastor just needs to drain the storm inside his head.

"Don't look at me like that." Alastor mutters under his breath, lifting his gaze to meet your eyes as you're sitting in front of him at the library's table. He seems cold and avoidant, but he knows how much you care for him.