Work Text:
In other words hold my hand,
in other words baby kiss me,
Fill my heart with song,
and let me sing forever more.
You are all I long for,
all I worship and adore.
In other words..
The static from the radio dwindled, a slow, dying whisper that filled the quiet of the room. Alastor sat back, spine straight as ever, his sharp grin still in place but faltering ever so slightly at the sudden emptiness where music once soared. Eyes narrowed, a silent, delicate irk tugging at him, unspoken; hands moved smooth and deliberate, adjusting the radio dials with the precision of someone offended by the sudden muteness of a beloved companion.
In other words,
I love...you.
A thin puff of smoke escaped the radio, curling like delicate, defiant ribbons. His ears tilted back in an elegant arc, eyes squinting as he leaned closer to the lifeless device. Left hand holding the radio steady, right delivering a quick, gentle smack in protest—still, it only gave a feeble, static cry, pitifully unwilling to perform.
Alastor’s lips pressed into a line. “…How unfortunate.” The words fell clipped, curling from him like smoke, disappearing into the dim light of his room.
A pause.
He allowed himself a half-smile, a soft falter of expression, eyes drifting toward the door. Leaning back in his black chair, hands resting elegantly in his lap, he softened further, gaze hazy, almost reflective, like the faint static still lingering in the air.
“Best I retire for the night… I suppose I’ll attend to this in the early morning.” His voice carried a warmth unexpected, deep as velvet, colored faintly in shades of red and cyan.
A long exhale, more sigh than sound, escaped him.
He rose. Steps silent, deliberate. Paused at the doorway, gaze flicking once toward the radio.
Then left, vanishing like air, leaving the quiet—and the faint, lingering hum of something almost like longing—behind him.