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You finally woke up before Alastor.
This is a big achievement and one you’re going to take full advantage of. He’s somehow an early bird and a night owl, never needing to rest for long. You can’t even count the many times you would go to sleep, watching him pour over a script for his radio show, and then waking up to him shoving coffee into your hand. You’ve always tried to convince him to rest next to you, using the same tactics he pulls when he wants something, but he would always wave you off with a laugh.
“Darling, I’m the sweet talker in this relationship, not you!”
Asshole.
You got used to this little quirk of his, even staying up late to spend more time with him. You fondly recall the late night debates and silly stories you two would swap. They’ve become your routine now, one that you look forward to all the time…
Last night was different.
Alastor– for the first time ever in your entire relationship– was the one convincing you to call it a night. He was pretty damn convincing too. He pulled out every trick in his book: playing with your hair, cupping your face, he even started tugging on your arms. His voice was low and smooth, dipping into his natural accent that you adore with all your heart. He weaved pretty words right into your ears and you couldn’t stop yourself from melting from his warm tone.
“I just want you to lay in my arms, pet, is that really too much to ask?”
That one did you in. You packed your work away– you’ll deal with it later – and let him lead you to your bedroom. He helped you complete your nighttime routine with ease. He brushed out your hair, organized your face washes and creams you use to help quell your acne, and even grabbed your pajamas for you. You also, for the first time ever, watched what he would do when he wanted to settle down for the night. Instead of comfy house clothes and shoes, he donned a matching set of pajamas in his signature red color, washed his slicked back hair in the sink, and even brushed his teeth!
In the end, he crawled into bed right next to you, pulling you close to his chest as he ran his fingers down your back. He traced patterns and images, symbols and words underneath your shirt, leaving trails of goosebumps across your skin. You got to listen to the soothing sound of his steady heartbeat, feel the rise and fall of his chest, and his lips caressing the top of your scalp, encouraging you to sleep.
And now here you are, up at the crack of dawn, staring up at Alastor as he dreams.
There’s no amber-hued eyes or a wide, toothy grin to greet you; no bitter coffee being shoved into your face, or even a smart-ass comment about your bedhead. Instead, you are graced with an Alastor that’s snoozing away. His head is turned away from you, but you still catch his relaxed features, his soft breathing, a twitch of his eyebrow, the curl of his lips. He’s slept on his back the entire night, still keeping one arm wrapped around your back. His hair all natural: dark and curly, somehow swept to the side and sticking out like leaves on a branch.
He’s the prettiest sleeper you’ve ever seen, he should do it more often.
You study his features for a few more moments before slipping away, doing your best not to jostle him awake. You wanted to ask him why he was so willing to rest on a seemingly random day, but you got too caught up in the moment and it slipped your mind.Now, you want him to get as much rest as he needs and surprise him with something that you’re sure he’ll love.
You’re going to surprise him with breakfast and hopefully be able to bring it to him while he’s laying in bed.
Alastor has always, even if he’s running late to work, has made you breakfast. Whether it’s a simple dish of eggs and sausage or an elaborate breakfast sandwich that he found in the many cookbooks he owns, he’s always made sure you’re fed before he goes on with his day. His love for cooking shines in every meal he makes and he refuses to let you lift a finger to help him in the kitchen. He claims that it’s his domain, there’s no need for you to do anything in there when he’s around! Now though, the kitchen is yours until he wakes up and kicks you out.
So, you get to work.
You crack open your icebox, pulling out meat and eggs, fresh fruit and ingredients. You whipped up hash browns and grits, scrambled and fried your eggs, cooked bacon and sausage until they’re golden, and cut up oranges to make some fresh orange juice. You also started brewing a batch of coffee for him, allowing the aroma to waft through the air as you begin to fill his plate with food. You’re debating on recreating one of his very own recipes when you hear muffled shuffling from upstairs.
Of course, the moment you decide to surprise him with breakfast in bed, he just had to wake up.
You sigh as you hear the creak of the staircase, knowing you’ll be met with his slicked back hair and nicely pressed suit, teasing you for working in his kitchen. The second Alastor turns the corner though, you're met with a view that you’ve never seen before.
He looks so sleepy! His hair is still curly and sticking up in every direction, his glasses are crooked on his face, and he has a small, barely-there grin that makes your stomach flip. His eyes are low and it’s clear he definitely needs a few more hours of rest. You know he won’t listen though, so you guide him to a chair near the kitchen as he sleepily grumbles.
“Good morning, my dear.”
You chuckle, face flushing as you catch the subtle southern twang to his low voice. You quickly grab his favorite mug– an off white one with a small chip on the rim– and fill it with black coffee, not even bothering to add any sugar or honey to subdue the bitter taste.
He lets out a pleased hum as you hand him his mug, still a little too out of it to properly thank you. You don’t mind though. The air is filled with the smells of coffee and cooked goods, the kitchen is warm and toasty, and you’re watching Alastor as he stares off, still wearing a tired smile on his face.
“Al?”
“Hm?”
“Your glasses, they’re kinda–um…”
You chuckle softly as you reach your hand out, ready to straighten his cheaters and lovingly squeeze his cheeks for being so sleepy, but he catches your hand. He brings it to his lips as he presses a lingering kiss to your palm, allowing you to curl your fingers around his cheek. He closes his eyes for a moment and you feel his mouth move, quietly mumbling words you can’t catch before he presses another kiss to your palm.
You quickly use your other hand to straighten his glasses and tuck a strand of hair behind his ear, feeling how his lips widen into a bigger grin as you fiddle and twirl it between your fingers. The moment ends, however, when you remember all of the god damn food you made for this man and how it’s going to get cold if he doesn’t let go of you. You begin to pull away and he reluctantly lets you go, grumbling that he wasn’t done.
“Jeez, you must be really out of it if you want me to keep my hands on you.”
“Sweetheart, your hands are the only ones I actively need on me.”
You feel your face flush again at his words, so you busy yourself with collecting the silverware.
“And you didn’t even say anything about me cooking in your kitchen! What’s up with you?”
“Maybe this was my plan all along, getting a meal out of you.”
You laugh as you place your plates down, sliding into the chair next to him. Even when half asleep, he can still throw quips at you like a true, professional radio host.
“You’re always one step ahead, huh?”
“A true mastermind, my sweet.”
You roll your eyes, ordering him to eat the meal you pulled out all the stops for before you dump it into the trash. He gives you his most innocent grin as he digs into his food and takes lofty sips of his coffee. You let him get halfway through his meal before asking him if he was okay, pointing out that what he did yesterday was very unusual. He sighs and gives you a reassuring grin, twirling his butter knife between his fingers.
“Sweetheart, let’s not talk about my… unorthodox behavior from last night. I wouldn’t want to dampen this lovely surprise you’ve given me!”
“Oh come on, Alastor, you can tell me! I promise I won’t…”
Your sentence fades as you feel a warm hand cover your own, giving it a gentle squeeze before lacing your fingers together. Alastor rubs his thumb on the back of it and you finally notice the dark bags under his eyes, showing how deeply exhausted he is from… something. You have your guesses, but now is not the time for that. It’s crystal clear he wants to keep this to himself and you reluctantly allow it, knowing that pushing this issue will only push him away.
“Okay… just tell me when you’re ready, alright?”
“Of course! You’ll be the first to know, I promise.”
“Well good… good.”
You both fall quiet again as you finish up breakfast. The silence makes your ears ring and you feel your heartbeat a little faster. Maybe you pushed him, maybe he’s hiding something really bad from you, maybe he–!
“And sweetheart…”
“... Yes?”
“…don’t go into my kitchen again.”
You laugh loud and bright as you spot his shit-eating grin. The air shifts into something lighter and playful, the former melancholy now slipping away. He’ll hopefully tell you what his problem is soon, but for now you jab back at him, flashing your own smug grin at him.
“I knew you were bothered by it!”
