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“Ha-ha-ha! No."
“Alastor.”
“Not happening my dear.”
Charlie's pout was one marked by exasperation and Alastors stubbornness when faced with the current situation was most definitely not helping it.
“Just let me check, if you haven’t caught them you are free to go!”
“I can assure you, princess, my hair is none of your concern.” She watched as his ears twitched involuntarily. If it was irritation or due to the debacle they currently faced was yet up for discussion and therefore, for Charlie to find out.
“You are a deer demon.” She pointed to her own none-existent deer ears to prove her cause.
“That is correct!” Alastors microphone cheered. “You truly are as bright as a star, Charlie dear!”
“You have fur.”
“That is up to debate.”
“Alastor.”
“Yes princess?”
“Just let me check if you have fleas, it's do and be done with it! If you haven’t caught them we don’t have to do anything,” her hands pinned to her hips, eyes narrowed on him “but if you do have them you need flea treatment!”
She stared at his face, eyes wide and unblinking, grin stretched from one cheek to the other. His ears twitched again, threatening to pin close to his head clearly without his consent and it was then and there that Charlie thought she would finally lose her patience with him.
Of course it wasn’t Alastors fault that the squirrel-sinner who joined the hotel just mere days ago brought uninvited guests along her stay, yet her hotelier did prove incredibly stubborn when it came to the topic. He may be the one and only Radio Demon, yet at least his ears were covered in fluffy fur and fleas never cared about social status before, so exactly why he was so determined to avoid Charlie checking his hair was beyond her.
Almost as if he was embarrassed about it. Almost.
She sighed. This conversation had been so much simpler with Angel and Husk. She just combed through their fur to check for fleas and then proceeded to hand them anti-flea-shampoo and some repellent medication and off the hook they were.
Husk had even started to purr, to her delight and his own horror.
“I assure you, that won’t be necessary. I am perfectly flea-free!” Alastor leaned forward, stemming his weight onto his cane. “Those pesky little skitters would never get the jump on me! Ha-ha-ha!” His hand brushed through his air to hide the free will that his ears must have developed somewhere between last week and today.
“Your ears kept twitching for the past 10 minutes.”
Alastor shifted, grin growing even more tense around the edges, shoulders squared, clearly uncomfortable.
She took a step forward, gently smiling puppy eyes that never worked on him anyways. “Will you let me check? I won’t tell anyone, promise.”
“...fine. But not here.” Alastor finally, finally gave in and he growled, his ears pulled back, no longer trying to hide the irritated twitching and Charlie jumped in place, squealing with delight.
“Oh thank you! Let’s go to your room then!”
Alastor had followed her in uncharacteristic silence, the lack of music around him nothing but a low buzz of static that Charlie could swear sounded nervous and it only increased in intensity as the lock to his door clicked shut.
He walked towards one of the armchairs in front of the chimney, back straight as a board as he sat down. His staff disappeared into the shadows so both his hands could be placed atop the armrests on either side. Charlie decided not to mention how his claws dug into the material.
“Well then, do you plan on standing there all day or will you actually commit to what we came here for, hmm?” Alastor’s eyes refused to meet hers despite the mockery in his voice.
“Right, I just- yeah, sorry.” She pulled the flea comb from her pocket, stepping in front of him. “Here, I will just comb through your ears and hair, that’s all. Ready?”
And, for the first time since he burst through the doors of the hotel, Charlie saw a hint of uncertainty flicker through his eyes and he hesitated as if forcing himself to answer. She swallowed, the tension almost palpable.
“Proceed.”
“Okay then.” Charlie took in a deep breath before she leaned forward, reaching towards his left ear but just before she could touch, it flicked, pinned flat against his head. She paused, eyeing Alastor again, waiting for a reaction that only came as a deep inhale and the forced straightening of the ear.
She tried again and this time, it didn’t move when she touched it and so she halted for a moment, waiting for Alastor to give her the okay she needed to start combing through the surprisingly soft fur. After a few moments he nodded slowly, the ear twitched again and Charlie began to brush.
It was an awkward angle, brushing along the hairline from the base of the ear to the top, but it worked. Only when her comb caught into a knot did she stop, using her fingers to untangle the mess without thinking too much of it and in the process, accidentally petting.
Alastors breath hitched, a sharp inhale and a noise so gentle Charlie would never have guessed that it was he who produced it. The static haze in the room increased tenfold within an instant, a harsh scratch of microphone feedback had Charlie flinch.
One of his hands was firmly pressed to his face, covering his mouth, a bead of sweat formed on his brow and Charlie could swear his cheeks held a slight pink color to them.
So that’s why he doesn’t want anyone to touch his ears. But how could she have known they were this sensitive?
“I-I’m sorry,” she stuttered awkwardly. “I didn’t meant to- I mean I didn’t know that-”
“Just don’t do that again.” He sighed, closing his eyes for a moment, still refusing to look at her. The noises died down with a slow exhale through his mouth and he relaxed ever so slightly.
“Right.”
Charlie decided it was best not to mention this any further. Instead, she continued to brush through his other ear as well as the rest of his hair in silence, leaving every knot where it was, avoiding his antlers and keeping the touch to his head as minimal as possible.
Finally pulling back, she mustered the comb in her hand, black spots caught within it.44
“Alastor?”
“Yes?”
“You do have fleas, see?” She held the brush to his face like a victory trophy, smiling brightly as she presented her professional diagnosis.
He paused, his eyes wandering from the brush to Charlie, until settling back on the brush covered in flea droppings.
“...I suppose you’re right.”
“Don’t worry, I’m not gonna tell anyone. Neither about your… ears. Just use this,” she pulled two bottles she conveniently held prepared in her pocket and handed them to him. “wash your hair with the shampoo and then put the repellent on and it will make sure you won’t spread them or get them back any time soon.”
And again, Alastor sighed, glaring at the bottles as if Charlie just asked him to pray before every meal and live the rest of his un-life as a dedicated nun.
She smiled back at him. As long as she would make sure not to touch his ears again, they would be fine, she was sure of it.