Alastor’s Shadow had always been an enigma, a mischievous creature that danced in the corners of the room like a wisp of smoke. But lately, it had been more… curious. Its flickering form would skitter off into the shadows at odd moments, disappearing for minutes at a time, as if drawn to something. Alastor, with his usual composure, had noticed and found himself intrigued.

When he finally followed the Shadow, silently trailing it through the corridors of his domain, it led him straight to you.

You were hunched over your workbench in the workshop, an array of tools scattered about, the sharp scent of metal and wood filling the air. The soft hum of your concentration was interrupted by the familiar brush of something against your legs. The Shadow slinked around you like an affectionate cat, nuzzling and coiling its tendrils around your waist.

You froze, letting out an exasperated huff as the Shadow’s form pressed a little too intimately against you, its ethereal hands squeezing at your sides, brushing along your skin with a playful heat. You jumped slightly, trying to shove it away, but it only tightened its grip, its tendrils caressing your hips, coaxing a soft laugh from you despite the annoyance.

"Oi, you cheeky bugger! What have I told you about this?" you chided, slapping at its amorphous form in futile attempts to break free. It only purred, an unsettling sound in the otherwise quiet space.

And then, through the shadows, Alastor's voice rang out, smooth and honeyed with amusement, though an edge of something darker lingered beneath.

"Seems my Shadow has taken quite a liking to you," he mused, stepping forward with his signature grin.