The moment her fingers brushed his skin, Alastor’s demeanor flipped like a switch. His eyes locked onto hers with an intensity that stole the air from her lips, just as he leaned down to capture them in a searing kiss. 

It was nothing like the kiss on the dance floor. That one had been a challenge, seeing whose resolve would break first and pull away. 

This was, well, it wasn’t gentle. But it was desperate, almost needy. Like he had to have her mouth on his to answer whatever was occupying his mind and consuming his thoughts.

Charlie’s hand came to rest on his chest, gripping into his black vest. She felt Alastor’s heart racing under her palm as he pulled back to look at her.

“Are you alright, my dear?” Worry crept into his voice—did he think he’d upset her by kissing the breath out of her?? And since when could Alastor kiss like that?

There was always more to the mystery of the Radio Demon.

"I’m more than alright.” Charlie admitted, blinking past her whirling thoughts, trying to calm the concern she could still feel radiating from him. “I just…never thought you liked anyone, like that.”

“Nor did I,” Alastor admitted, his tone and his gaze far off.

Charlie bit her lip, realizing she wasn’t helping whatever swirl of emotions he was feeling that made his hand limp in hers.

Damn slow elevators.

“But I’m not upset about it, so you know…um.” Charlie diverted, her cheeks warming again, but pushing through because Alastor needed the reassurance. “Yesterday, when we were in here with all those people and you leaned over me—I kinda, wanted to kiss you then.”

Her face burned as she confessed, but that giddy little nervous giggle bubbled from her lips.

Alastor just looked stunned.

Charlie felt her face flame, and she ducked her head. “I’m so sorry; I shouldn’t have said that. Fuck, what was I thinking?”

But Alastor’s hand was suddenly under her chin, tilting her face up to meet that burning intensity in his still brown eyes. "

“Did you like that, darling?” His voice was low and smooth as she’d ever heard at it.

“Yes…” Charlie squeaked, fighting the anxious habit of dissolving into giggles and wriggle away.

Alastor’s expression broke into a real, genuine grin as he pressed her back against the elevator wall. His hand came up to brace beside her head, trapping her against him.

Charlie’s mind reeled. Just like yesterday—was that only yesterday—but so, so different. All alone in the elevator. The air crackled brightly between them without a hint of his irritated static sounds.

Impatient for more, she grabbed for Alastor’s vest to pull him down into another kiss.

But he just chuckled, and stayed maddeningly out of reach, his lips at her temple.

“Not so fast,” He purred. “Say what you said, before.”

His lips ghosted along her cheek, his breath tickling the hair that waved in front of her ears. Making it hard for Charlie to think straight.

“Um…it’s okay, Al?” she guessed, her words breathless.

Alastor’s lips hummed along her jawline before skipping her mouth again. “Close, but not quite…try again.”

Charlie swallowed hard, the desire building hot and fast from Alastor’s teasing almost kisses as she wracked her mind.

Then it clicked.

“Just focus on me.”

Alastor gave a hum of approval. “Gladly,” he purred, and finally, finally, he ducked his head to kiss her.

Charlie gasped into his mouth, overwhelmed by another flair of his searing intensity. Her hands flew up to grip his shoulders, anchoring herself as her entire understanding of Alastor tilted on its axis.

There was no hesitation in the way he held her, one hand cupping her face, while his thumb eased her lips open—until she could taste whiskey on his tongue.

Charlie responded eagerly, her fingers sliding back into his dark hair.

Clinging to him like a lifeline, and amazed every moment Alastor didn’t pull away from her.

✧✦✧✦⚜️✧✦✧✦

Alastor’s lips found Charlie’s with renewed fervor as he kicked the door of the honeymoon suite closed without breaking their kiss

Their bodies moved in tandem, easy as a slow dance, with his arm around her waist and hers linked around his shoulders—until her heels hit the edge of the bed. The Princess pulled the demon with her back onto the mattress.

Alastor’s heart lept up into his throat as Charlie dragged him with her, graceless but so eager he could hardly lift his torso off of hers. Sweet Charlie, heart on her sleeve, her desires plain as a song with every little sound she made.

He wanted to collect every single one and make a record just for her.

“Just like when you had too much to drink last night.” Charlie’s giggle was music to his ears, her golden eyes sparkling with mischief.

She was so damningly beautiful. No matter what form she was in—it might just be the end of him.

“Tipsy, darling.” Alastor pulled back, a trademark grin on his face. “Alas, I assure you, now I am fully aware.” He brushed his lips across her wonderfully warm cheek as he found his way to her neck.

Charlie’s laughter bubbled up, a sound that sent shivers of delight through Alastor.

He sucked a mark of the point of her rabbiting pulse, relishing the softness, the sweetness, the taste that was uniquely hers.

Alastor shifted, moving himself further up the bed, fingers gripping the comforter—the same one they’d left in a heap that very morning. Charlie’s pale legs wrapped around his narrow waist, her dress riding up her thighs, so pulling them so intimately together.

The contact sent a jolt of electricity through every nerve, making the Radio Demon acutely aware of his own arousal straining against his slacks…mirrored by the heat he could feel from Charlie.

“I’m so glad we have this big bed.” The blonde laughed easily.

Alastor froze, despite the heat of her gasp against his ear.

His mind flashed back to that morning, how he’d promised himself he would sleep on the couch out of respect. Things had changed so quickly. And, as much as he now desperately craved her closeness…she drew another feeling from the depths of his long-dead heart.

Apprehension. A sudden, crippling self-doubt that he had never experienced.

That almost made him miss the feeling of her small fingers sliding between their bodies to work at the button of his slacks.

Alastor’s hand shot out, grasping Charlie’s wrist in a vise, gently but firmly, pulling it away from his crotch. His heart thudding with a disastrous mix of lust and churning anxiety.

“Al?” Charlie’s voice was laced with worry. “Are you okay?”

He winced, hiding from it only for as long as he could.

“Yes, of course.” Alastor brought her hand to his lips, pressing a tender kiss to her palm, before he felt the strained words come out of his mouth. “And…no.”

“Is something wrong?” Charlie’s brow was furrowed with an irritating amount of concern, and she moved to sit up. “You can tell me.”

Alastor leaned back on his knees to allow her the room; his gaze turned from her as his smile became a wretched, vulnerable thing.

His pride was already smarting.

Kissing something he had done plenty. Decades ago, of course, but a man couldn’t go raising suspicions by not having a few dates with pretty girls—but that was the extent of his experience. And he was going to have to confess that, to Charlie.

“I have…I’ve never been this close to anyone before.” She had been correct—he didn’t like people. Alastor took a deep breath, his eyes closed, so he didn’t have to meet hers. “Never been…intimate. And I am…” he despised the taste of this word on his tongue. “Afraid that I do not know to do it properly.”

The very notion that he would fail to please Charlie…was something Alastor’s ego simply could not abide by.

✧✦✧✦⚜️✧✦✧✦

Charlie took an agonizingly long time to process what he was saying. The tortuous silence was worse than anything he’d experience in Hell, and his anxiety mounting with every passing second.

“Oh!” she finally exclaimed, those golden eyes gone wide. “Sorry, I just, had no idea. The way you kissed me and you were using your mouth on my neck…” She rubbed at the reddened skin along her throat, her words trailing off.

Alastor felt a small surge of satisfaction at her words, some of his wounded ego recovering as he squared his shoulders. “Well, I am a quick study,” he said, attempting to inject the facade of his usual confidence.

Charlie’s expression only softened, and when she reached up to cup his cheek, he leaned into her hand. “It’s okay Al, really. We can take it slow—I don’t want anything you’re not comfortable with.”

Alastor felt his lips pull back over his teeth, knowing that his urge was to snap at her. To lash out when his ego was bruised. But he didn’t want to do that to Charlie.

Part of him hated that she was taking it easy on him, treating him like some blushing virgin.

Even if that was precisely what he was.

But another part, what he hoped was a larger part, was secretly grateful for her understanding.

“You’re too kind.” Alastor cupped Charlie’s hand to his face, still fighting with the conflicting thoughts.

The Radio Demon was entirely unaccustomed to the fear of inadequacy gnawing at him.

Until Charlie nudged him gently. “Hey,” she smiled, pulling her hand away and leaving an ache in his chest. “Let me up for a sec?”

Alastor obliged, shifting his weight to allow her to stand, though he wilted a bit at the loss of contact. Already thinking it a consequence of his ineptitude.

He watched Charlie stand, pulling off her earrings and her pearl necklace to set them aside. His eyes drawn to her as she smoothed her fabric back down, hiding her legs from him.

Alastor felt an undercurrent of static bristle under his skin.

“C’mon Al, I was just going to change out of this dress.” Charlie must have heard his brooding mood, because she came back to him. He lifted his head as she draped her arms around his shoulders. “We can keep kissing as much as you like.”

Alastor cocked an eyebrow up at her. Wanting her was far from the issue.

“But I don’t want you sleeping on that tiny couch tonight.”

“Oh?” His hands came to hold her waist. “And where, pray tell, do you suggest I sleep?”

Charlie rolled her eyes playfully, trying to neaten the mess that had been made of his hair. “With me.” She said simply.

From her blush, he knew she knew what she’d said. Leaving him reeling over what she meant by it.

The Princess was toying with him.

But then, Charlie was kissing him again. Reassuring Alastor that, yet again, he had not scared her off. Though her lips were gentler on his this time. Still going easy on him, he thought bitterly.

When she leaned back, she was still giggling, and Alastor couldn’t help but admire how disheveled she looked. Her blonde waves were a mess from his eager hands.

“Al?” Charlie’s voice brought through his thoughts. “Could you help me with this zipper?”

"Of course, my dear," he replied automatically, ever the gentleman. He rose to his feet, moving behind her.

As Alastor's fingers pulled the dress apart, he was suddenly very aware of every inch of exposed skin. The elegant curve of her neck, the smooth expanse of her shoulders, the line drawn down to the small of her back...that overwhelming urge to touch her returned with a vengeance.

Charlie said she liked the feeling of his mouth on her neck—stirring something primal within him.

Alastor leaned closer to her, his cheek pressed to her soft hair, nuzzling against her, wondering if she would rebuff his boldness.

But Charlie, sweet Charlie who sang to him like a siren, was leaning back into his touch and giving him all the encouragement he needed. The warmth of her body sent a shiver through him. And his fingers played down the crook of her neck and shoulder like the keys of a piano.

“You can touch me as much as you want, you know,” Charlie murmured, tilting her head invitingly.

Alastor didn’t need to be told twice.

He eagerly ducked his head, leaving a trail of sucking kisses along her pale skin. His human teeth, he noted with a hint of frustration, left a shallow imitation of the marks he could make as a demon.

Still, Charlie’s soft sighs of pleasure were invading his senses like an intoxicating drink.

“That…feels amazing.” She breathed, octaves dropping with her obvious desire.

Emboldened by her words, his hands mapped the curve of her spine, slipping under the dress to touch more and more. Alternating between gentle nips and soothing licks. So caught up he didn’t register Charlie’s hands moving to let the dress drop in a pool of black sequence around her ankles.

Alastor was eager to discover every inch exposed as she pressed back into his body, lighting every nerve as her delicate fingers splayed over his.

Charlie moved their linked hands to her chest, and with a minute click, her bra was undone and falling to the ground.

He panted gently against the side of her head, overwhelmed with the softness of the flesh beneath his palms. “Charlie…” Alastor heard the plea in his own voice.

“It’s okay…like this.” She murmured back to him, cupping his hands around her breasts, brushing his thumbs over the peaks of her nipples.

Charlie was clever, but Alastor knew what she was doing. Patient, subtle guidance that was careful not to bruise his ego.

He couldn’t think to care right now, too entranced by the little gasps and exhales he drew from the princess as he explored her. He cataloged each and every precious note, determined to collect them all.

“Darling girl,” he murmured against her ear, “you make the most…exquisite sounds.”

Charlie shivered in his arms, reaching back to tangle her fingers into his hair, her pants tender and filled with affection.

Charlie wriggled against him, her movements becoming more urgent. As she pressed back, Alastor felt her ass against his growing arousal. Surprisingly, he found it easy to ignore that particular sensation. His focus narrowed to the heat of her skin, how he caused her breath to quicken and a moan to slip from her with the flick of his thumb.

Emboldened and with deft fingers, Alastor slid his hand across Charlie’s black panties—a burst of harmonic hum escaped him as he felt her wet warmth.

"My, my," he purred, his voice taking on a slight echo. "You're absolutely drenched, cher."

Charlie gave a gasping laugh. "You're…you're really turning me on right now."

Alastor chuckled, low and deep, nipping her ear. "Show me," he whispered, his breath hot against her ear. "Where you want to be touched."

"My…my clit," Charlie breathed, her cheeks beautifully red. She guided his hand into her panties, curling her fingers over his to show him exactly where she wanted him.

When he found that sensitive bundle of nerves, he was rewarded with the delicious sound of Charlie crying out his name. It sent a thrill through Alastor, stoking his own desire into a brilliant fire.

"Darling…" he murmured, tilting her head back to better hear her sounds.

He experimented with different touches, light caresses, and firmer strokes. Each movement drew another captivating sound from Charlie. Letting Alastor wonder what other delightful notes he could coax from her, with Charlie’s body as his instrument.

Her hips moved in small, enticing circles. Pressing back against him again. Distracting him only momentarily as she bit into her bottom lip.

Alastor gripped her by the chin and neck, holding her still to regain his focus.

Charlie’s breathing grew ragged, and it thrilled him that she couldn’t manage to keep her mouth closed when he was touching her.

“Al…I’m close. I’m so close.” She whined.

The demon’s eyes gleamed with pure excitement. “I want to see your face.” He demanded in a sultry voice. “I want you to look at me.”

Charlie nodded eagerly, but lamented loudly when he moved her.

Alastor chuckled, snapping his fingers to vanish her remaining undergarments and shoes as he turned her around and pushed her back onto the bed with newfound confidence, pushing her legs apart.

Charlie looked an absolute mess beneath him—but the way her eyes were on him exhilarated Alastor. Drinking in the power of it.

Her fists wrinkled his red button down, desperately trying to get his hands back on her.

Alastor pinned Charlie’s shoulder to the bed, teasing his touch down her body, before relenting to what she wanted. His fingers drawing over her soaking lips, before finding her clit again.

Charlie moaned, but bit into her lip to stifle it.

“Now, now. None of that.” Alastor tutted disapprovingly, using his free hand to grasp her chin again. "Let me hear you sing for me."

Charlie’s eyes were wide with want as she plead, “Please, Al…I need more. I need your fingers inside me.”

Alastor felt a surge of pure pride at her desperate tone. She was begging for him, and it was truly intoxicating.

“Show me.” He commanded, his own words heavy with desire.

Charlie grabbed at the wrist that was at her neck, but didn’t tug him away. Her other hand showed him how to curl his two fingers just so.

Alastor eagerly mimicked the motion, relishing the way her body responded. He rubbed the heel of his palm against her clit, watching her face intently for every flicker of pleasure.

Suddenly, Charlie's grip on his wrist tautened. "Al…Alastor~" she cried out, her body trembling. "Fuck!"

Alastor began to withdraw his fingers, but Charlie held him firmly in place. "Don't stop," she gasped. "Please~"

He continued his ministrations, mesmerized by the way her inner walls clenched around him.

The sounds she made were unlike anything he'd ever heard—a symphony of ecstasy that rivaled even the most agonized screams he'd elicited in Hell.

As Charlie's bliss subsided, she released his wrist and let him pull away, her chest heaving.

Alastor looked down at her, feeling a surge of satisfaction unlike any he'd experienced before. He blinked away the red glow in his eyes, surprise his demonic form was trying to manifest.

Charlie gazed up at him, a dopey, contentment grin on her face. She reached for his hand, bringing it to her lips. Alastor watched, transfixed, as she began to suck her own slick from his fingers.

Unable to resist, he surged forward, capturing her lips to taste her. He hated sugar…but her sweetness left him wanting. He’d have to have her from the source, and soon.

"I want you,” she barely pulled her lips back from his. "I want to make you feel good, too."

Alastor hesitated.

He wanted to. Heavens, he wanted her more than anything. But…the idea of a, premature performance, was utterly mortifying.

Before he could think of how he should respond, Charlie pulled him close by the open collar of his shirt to pant into his ear. “Can I ride you, Alastor?”

“Yes,” he blurted out, surprising himself with his own eagerness. In for a penny, in for a pound.

⊹❀⊹❀⊹✨⊹❀⊹❀⊹

Charlie was all eagerness as she got Alastor onto his back so she could straddle his narrow hips, her body still tingling from his talented fingers.

She wanted more. Needed to feel him inside her—but first, she needed him out of these clothes, dapper as they were and as gorgeous as he looked all disheveled and aroused.

Even getting his shirt unbuttoned felt like something rare and forbidden, with the way his demon form was covered from neck to toe.

Charlie reached for the next button with a determined glint in her eye. When he caught her wrists.

“Al?” Her brow furrowed, looking at his widened eyes. “You okay?”

Alastor winced, and she could see the way his upper lip twitched with contempt at his own insecurity. “I am…concerned you won’t like what you see.” He admitted, like his silver tongue had turned to lead.

Charlie’s expression softened. She leaned forward, pressing a kiss to his cheek to get his attention back on her. "

“That’s not possible, Al. I already like seeing you like this.” Was it cheesy, yes, absolutely. But it wasn’t wrong either. The Radio Demon just had an irresistible appeal, no matter what form he was in.

Alastor searched her face, like he was looking for the smallest hint of deception—but there was none to find. Slowly, he released her wrists.

Charlie ducked to kiss him, resuming her unbuttoning of his shirt, keeping her touch feather light over his exposed skin.

He tensed as she pushed the fabric aside, and she saw why.

A faded scar ran from his right hip almost up to his left shoulder. “Oh, Al,” Charlie felt her composure flicker into a pained realization. “Is this from…the fight with Adam?”

Alastor swallowed hard. “Yes, it seems angelic weapons leave a rather indelible mark.”

Charlie felt a surge of emotion clogging her throat. She reached for him, but hesitated at the last moment.

“Does it hurt?” She asked quickly.

"Not anymore.” Alastor shook his head. “It's just…unsightly."

Charlie felt her eyes blaze with the fiery swelling in her chest. This time, she was the one to lean forward. Caging Alastor’s head with her arms, so he had to look up at her.

“Alastor, you got that protecting me. And our friends.” The princess said, with a fierceness that kept him from looking away. She splayed her fingers over his chest, and over the scar. “You got it defending our hotel. There’s nothing unsightly about it.”

Alastor opened his mouth, but nothing came out. And maybe, Charlie took a little bit of pride in stunning him. On making the Radio Demon, infamous for the gift of gab, speechless.

Charlie wasn’t finished with him.

With their eyes still locked together, the blonde ducked down, and pressed her lips to the angel blade scar. The tenderness of it left him breathless, but before Charlie could trail her kisses up the mark to his lips—Alastor seized her face in both his hands and pulled her mouth to his.

Part of her was still surprised at this much affection from him—this kiss was undeniably and absolutely loving.

"Charlie," Alastor's voice echoed, no longer the smooth radio announcer's tone but a whisper husky with yearning. The surreal sensation his body writhing beneath her was amplified by the desperate plea. "

Yes, Al?" Charlie responded, her lips brushing against his in a teasing peck.

His grip on her hips was bruising, and the noise that slipped past his gritted teeth was like a radio dial spinning wildly through frequencies.

Charlie decided to show him some mercy.

But Alastor's impatience surged forth as he made his remaining clothes vanish just as she undid the buttons on his fitted trousers.

His cock was achingly hard and leaking—making the princess feel profoundly empty without him.

Charlie shifted above Alastor, placing one hand on his chest for balance while aligning him at her entrance with the other. As she slowly lowered herself onto his length, he watched with rapt fascination.

Her eyes fluttered closed for just a moment as he stretched her so perfectly, making her walls clench.

"Ch-Charlie," he stammered out, arms wrapping around her waist to still her.

Charlie understood in an instant from the heat of his face where it was buried against her neck.

"It's okay," she whispered soothingly into his ear while running gentle fingers through his hair, fighting to keep her hips still and be as patient as she promised. . "We have all the time in the world."

Eventually, his panting breaths against her neck became slower and steadier.

Charlie bit her lip and nuzzled closer to the demon. Because she knew how precious his composure was to Alastor; this vulnerable side of him was only for her. Which just made her heart swell in her chest.

When he lifted his head, seeking another kiss from her lips, Charlie eagerly met him. Her arms looped around his shoulders, and she began to move her hips in a slow, easy rhythm.

His breath hitched audibly but he made no move to stop her.

"Darling..." Alastor's gave a ragged pant against her lips, "You feel... divine."

A soft sound escaped Charlie at the rawness of his voice, so different from the crisp, clear tones he usually employed.

"Al, I—" Before Charlie could return the sentiment, his fingers were tangled in her hair, pulling her head back and exposing her throat to his eager mouth.

When her movements faltered slightly under his touch, Alastor used one hand on the small of her back to pull her closer again. She let out a soft whimper; if he needed control, she was more than willing to relinquish it.

"Charlie," Alastor purred against the skin of her collarbone, his teeth grazing lightly over her chest before latching onto a sensitive nipple.

His name left her lips like a curse. This time, when she stuttered, his hips rose to meet her. Thrusting into her hard and fast, and just right. She was so sensitive, but she had to reach between them to find push her self over the edge with him.

Alastor caught hold of her wrist.

Charlie started, opening her eyes to see if he was alright—when she saw his grin.

"Allow me," he insisted smoothly as he replaced her fingers with his on her sensitive bundle of nerves.

Charlie moaned and wrapped arms around Alastor's shoulders once more, trying to hold back but she was so damn sensitive from before...

"Alastor," she whimpered just as she felt him shudder beneath her. She let her head fall back, as she chased her bliss.

When he grabbed her by the face one last time, demanding every little gasp and whine and sound of her pleasure, vaguely aware of his warmth filling her.

✧✦✧✦⚜️✧✦✧✦

As they lay together, catching their breath, Alastor found his mind consumed with yet another unfamiliar feeling.

A terrifying, cloying, neediness.

His body felt sated, his head finally free of the insatiable thoughts of Charlie—but he couldn’t fathom the thought of pulling away from her either.

She slumped against his chest, her hair splayed across him again—and all he could think was that he wanted to ease the tangles from her blonde locks. Alastor had already lifted a hand to do so, when he saw the human skin and bones.

Had he only slept with her because he was weak with human urges? A worse thought still—had Charlie only wanted him, because he currently looked human?

This feeling unsettled Alastor to his very core, making him feel devastatingly, uncharacteristically vulnerable.

Charlie gave a soft sound as she slipped off of him, causing a panic to rise in Alastor, dreading the moment that she would pull away—only to have her settle back beside him.

“That was amazing, Al.” Charlie leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to his lips, before focusing her golden eyes on him. "Are you alright?”

Alastor banished the uncertainty from his smile as he regarded her. “More than that, darling. Just…splendid.”

Charlie chuckled, and he wondered if he’d overdone it.

“Me too.” She just agreed, before nestling into his chest.

And the creeping emptiness vanished at her touch. Alastor finally settled back against the too soft pillows, and just, let himself wrap his arms around Charlie.

After a long moment, the Princess stirred. “We should probably get up and get cleaned up.” she murmured, voice heavy with contentment and movements heavier with fatigue.

Alastor tightened his arm around her. “Now, that won’t do.” His usual timbre returning to his words as he flicked his fingers. With a flash of green glow, he magicked them both refreshed.

Though, perhaps selfishly, he didn’t redress them for bed.

“Handy trick,” Charlie just gave a giggle, reaching for the rumpled blankets and smoothing it over them both. Before she snuggled right back against his chest.

Alastor wondered if they were meant to just…fall asleep after sex, if that was the usual protocal, when Charlie lifted her head again.

“Goodnight, Al.” She leaned up, cupping his cheek, and dropping a lazy kiss on his lips. Alastor felt himself clinging to Charlie for as long as she allowed, only to be interrupted by a yawn.

“Goodnight, my dear.” Alastor murmured, planting a kiss on the top of her head.

As Charlie's breathing evened out in sleep, Alastor found himself wide awake. He stared at the ceiling, his mind racing. The unfamiliar emotions swirling within him were both thrilling and terrifying.

Sleep, it seemed, would be elusive tonight.

✧✦✧✦⚜️✧✦✧✦

It was around three or four in the morning, the witching hour, when Alastor finally gave up and slipped out of bed.

After carefully extricating himself from Charlie’s embrace, he slipped on one of the soft robes the hotel had provided—before he transfigured it into one more his style. Though, the cool red silk was a stark contrast from the warmth he’d left behind.

Silent as he could, Alastor made his way to the balcony, pushing the heavy curtains aside, and stepping out into the still warm and humid, but slightly less stifling night air.

Leaning against the railing, Alastor gazed at the twinkling lights of Bourbon Street—the music was still atrocious and ill-matched, but dulled at this hour into an almost pleasant murmur.

“What have I done?” He growled at himself, running a hand through his mussed hair. “Given someone else a chain to link around my neck, it seems.” He snarled into the night air.

The very notion of a romantic, or physical, entanglement was incompatible with his ambitions. Overlords fell before him because they had things, people, to lose.

Yet here Alastor was. He’d tied a string around his heart and then just dropped it into Charlie’s hand. He was at her mercy.

So why did the idea thrill him as much as it terrified him?

Alastor’s perpetual smile faltered as a new, horrid thought took hold.

No one had said that Charlie felt the same as he. Perhaps it was just…sex to the Princess, withering as that idea was.

What if she only brought Alastor to bed, because of this handsome human disguise he wore? Yes, it had been his face. But it wasn’t who he was. Not anymore.

“Fuck,” a bitter laugh escaped him. Alastor, the Radio Demon, had forgotten who he was. After all the coaching and talking to himself, he’d thrown it all down the elevator shaft the moment Charlie gave even a hint that she wanted to kiss him.

He was not the pretty face that he covered with his hand. The monster lurked beneath soft brown skin and coiffed dark hair. He was not the man Charlie had brought to her bed.

Alastor’s form began to shift, manifesting his inner turmoil. His fingers elongated, nails sharpening and turning scarlet. His smile stretched unnaturally wide, teeth growing sharp and meshed together like threshing blades.

This time, he didn’t fight the transformation. He needed to be reminded of this cursed, elongated body, the antlers, the ears, the gray skin that gave him the pallor of death with his blood-red eyes.

Standing there in the moonlight, Alastor looked down at himself. At the claws grasping the iron wrought railings, as he let out a soft, agonized laugh that crackled with static.

“As soon as the Radio Demon returns to Hell,” Alastor murmured as he lifted his hand and clenched his fist. “Charlie will remember exactly what you are.”

✧✦✧✦⚜️✧✦✧✦

"Alastor?" Charlie's soft voice cut through the night air, startling him from his brooding thoughts.

He leaned forward from the wicker bench that had been placed on the balcony overlooking Bourbon Street. For a moment, Alastor thought he was dreaming, seeing her framed in the open window, clad only in his red button-down shirt.

Dream or not, the sight of Charlie in his clothes stirred something in him—despite being in his proper demonic body.

"My dear, are you alright?" Alastor asked, his voice a low wavering tone.

"M’fine,” Charlie nodded, rubbing sleep from her eyes and giving a yawn that stilled the trembling signal inside him. “You didn’t come back to bed"

Alastor's permanent grin widened, though it didn't reach his eyes. "I assure you, I am perfectly fine, darling. You should go back to bed."

"Not without you," Charlie mumbled, moving towards him with surprising determination for someone half-asleep.

Before Alastor could protest, Charlie plopped down next to him on the bench.

Without hesitation, she pulled his arm around her shoulders, nestling against his side. Like his return to his demonic form, his real body, didn't faze her in the slightest.

“You’ve been through a lot this weekend, Y’know.”

Alastor stiffened, caught off guard by her easy affection. "Charlie, I—"

"So, I'll go back inside when you do," she interrupted, stifling another yawn.

Her gesture touched him deeply, though he tried not to show it. "We have a long trip back to Hell in the morning.” Well, a short trip, but one that would be taxing on her magic. “You need your rest."

Charlie nodded against his chest. "Mm-hmm. It'll be nice to sleep in my own bed again." She paused, brow furrowing. "Do you even have a bed in your room, Al?"

"I haven’t had the need for one," he admitted, surprised by her perceptiveness even in this state. And wondering where the hell she was going with this.

Alastor would not allow himself to get his hopes up, not again.

Charlie's eyes fluttered closed as she snuggled closer. "Well, you can use my bed whenever you do need one."

Alastor froze, his mind reeling at the implications of her sleepy offer.

He looked down at her, nestled so comfortably against his demonic form. When he felt something swelling in him anew.

A sound burst forth from Alastor's chest. It wasn't his usual static or feedback, but a soft, sweet melody—a lullaby flowing from him, unbidden.

Charlie stirred, her eyes half-lidded as she gazed up at him. “...that's beautiful," she murmured.

Alastor's red eyes widened, realizing what was happening. He hadn't consciously chosen to produce this song. It was as if his very essence was responding to Charlie's presence, her acceptance of him.

The trust he’d tried so hard to cultivate for his own means…that he never meant to return.

“I…suppose it is.” He murmured, his voice overlaid with the tune.

Charlie's breathing deepened, her body relaxing further against him. Until Alastor was cradling Charlie in his arms, as her melody meandered through the night air.

⚜️ Part 7 ~ Epilogue ⚜️