CH 27: Remember Me

~ Esme's POV ~

Finally, a moment alone.

It's bad enough I'm embarrassed beyond words for my little performance at the dock, but now I have to come back to these two berating me? This was, well, hell. My own little personal hell that I was living in was stuck in a never-ending loop and I'm getting fucking dizzy.

Love, even affection, for another male in this world was strictly forbidden. Even if I wanted to entertain their thoughts, it would be distracting from my orders. Though I must admit, I was given fairly vague instructions. I was told that I had to keep an eye on Alastor at all times to ensure that he never struck a deal with Ms. Morningstar. To my knowledge, that had yet to materialize. I was, indeed, keeping a close eye on him. It wasn't very specified how I would do that. 

Angel would remain under my control, and I still kept the upper hand on this whole ordeal. 

Poor Voxy didn't have to know that I was keeping a close eye by having his body on top of mine. 

Quite an pleasurable loophole if I do say so myself. 

In an attempt to distract myself, I decide to straighten the room. This rug was filthy from his boots dragging in muck from the bayou. How did he keep his quarters tidy anyhow?  My hand flicks on the radio to listen to some relaxing music, but instead, I'm met with a familiar voice.

Oh, that's right. He did say he was doing his broadcast.

As much as I did enjoy being an audience member, I did want a change of pace to get my mind off of some things. However, as I go to change the channel, my turning of the knobs proves to be fruitless, as it just remains stagnant. What the hell is wrong with this thing? I pick it up and shake it lightly, placing it back down before turning it off and on again. Then it hits me.

This asshole programmed them to stay on his show as long as he's live?

I can't help but chuckle at this. Even though this was extremely cocky and controlling, it was also downright comical. Well, it's not like he didn't have a nice voice. I smirk and decide to leave it on as I go about my business, humming to myself while I dust the dressers.  Cleaning always helped me clear my mind. I imagined I spent most of my time cleaning when I was alive, perhaps taking care of a little home. I always imagined a small quiet one with red shutters and lots of laughter.

The floor would be cluttered with toys scattered to the wind from the little angel. There would be ribbons and bows on the dressers to be organized away, small dresses to be hung. Perhaps I would have a low fire crackling in the background as I prepared her a bottle for bedtime. 

My husband would come home, his voice with a luscious soothing tone as he would walk over and kiss my head. The sound of little feet scampering to him in excitement would have us both laughing as we were united for another evening as a family. 

Maybe it did exist, somewhere deep in a place I didn't quite know yet. 

Yet...

"Well, that's all the time we have for today, my wayward sinners! Until next time, farewell!~"

And just like that, the radio turns completely off. Does it even work without him?

Night quickly falls and soon there's a knock on my door. It's not soft or delicate, but pounding and demanding. I suck my teeth and open the door to see Vaggie on the other side, "Why, hel-"

"Charlie wants everyone for a movie night for some bonding, so get your scales ready and come downstairs."

I growl at her words and slam the door in her face. I swear, if she wasn't connected to The Princess, I would have sunk my fangs deep into her throat by now. Right in her carotid arteries, where her blood would pour into my mouth and satisfy me for the next week.

After a few moments of composing myself, I change into something a bit more casual and headed downstairs. I held my hair tie in my mouth as I wrapped my curls up into a bun and tied it securely. I have had such a agonizingly long day, if I were lucky this night would provide me some relief.  Angel raises an eyebrow at me as I come down the stairs.

"A tank top?" He questions, skimming my body like a disapproving father.

"I need a ball gown for a picture show in the lobby?" I roll my eyes and brush past him, still pissed from earlier. He should know better than to irk me so by now. If we had been in a better time period, he would be receiving a wooden spoon straight to the cranium at this point.

Just as I sit down, the front door opens and Alastor walks in. I must have underestimated what seeing him would do to my body, because suddenly my stomach feels tight and there's an uncomfortable warm spreading throughout me. He walks with such purpose, such confidence in his stride. It was hellishly attractive, yet despicably arrogant.  "Alastor, great! We're having a movie night sit down." Vaggie instructs with a complete disregard for his own evening plans.

"I'll have to decline, my dear." He waves his hand dismissively. "Not one for that useless entertainment.." He starts walking towards the stairs.

"Oh no, you don't!" I shout, leaning over the couch and pointing a finger at him, "If I have to be here, so do you! That's only fair." I scowl.

There's a light chuckle next to me. I fling my hand to the side, smacking who I already know is Angel behind the head.

He pauses before he turns to me and tilts his head to the side, "Is that so?" He clears his throat, "Very well."

That's right, sit your ass down.

He takes a seat next to me and I smirk knowingly. Why, if I didn't know any better, I'd think I had him wrapped around my finger. It could be feasible that I did have that buck nipping at my heels with curiosity. Could my embrace be that poisonous to have warped his mind with such ease that even I wasn't aware of it? He wanted me, I could feel it. It brought a terrifying satisfaction to my core to recognize that, to see how he so willingly submitted to my commands without batting a single eyelash.

This day keeps getting better with each passing moment. 

~ 30 Minute Time Skippy ~

This movie made no sense. I tried my best to understand it, but there were so many jokes and sexual comments that I just found it distasteful. These girls were in fact mean....I had enough of that in Louisiana.

Wait.....huh...I vaguely remember that...

Alastor had tuned out the show at some point, sitting next to me with his legs crossed reading a book. It was The Murder On The Orient Express, one of my absolute favorites. I peer over his arm reading along. I can hear him chuckle in response to this. He turns the book slightly in my direction. We stay there for what feels like forever until we eventually migrant to the bar.

Gin Rummy, a game I was always particularly fond of. We gambled mostly over wagers of cigarettes and small bills. He was winning.

Dammit, he's good. I just have a bad hand.

I take a sip of my gin and examine my cards. "I don't even like cigarettes..." I whisper.

He smirks, "Of course you don't ~" He says teasingly.

He won, as to be expected. Eventually the movie seems to be approaching the end. I sneak a bottle of wine and pop the cork open with my fang. I walk over to the sofa by the fire and curl up, pouring myself a glass. About 10 minutes or so have passed and I feel the cushion indent next to me. He's there, of course.

"Not interested in the mean girls?"

"Not one bit." He rolls his eyes.

His smile is always there, but this one feels genuine. We sit, listening to the fire. He returns to his book, causing me to lean forward and return to my reading. Somehow, at some point, my head ends up resting against his shoulder reading silently.

I don't know how much time has passed, but now we're all alone just reading. The television is off and no one is to be seen. "My, it looks like we outstayed our welcome." I chuckle, thought I'm beginning to feel a little uneasy. How could we have lost track so easily? That would mean that everyone saw us sitting here like two puppy dogs, which would surely not help me in putting these rumors to rest. 

That's all they were, on my part anyhow...rumors. 

Tasteless, needless rumors.

"Perhaps..." He says, placing the book down and looking into the fire.

"Television nowadays, huh?" I joke, attempting to cut the silence.

"It's indeed different from what I was used to. I admit I'm not a big fan..."

"Whaaa???? Really? I had no idea!" I playfully nudge his arm, earning a small laugh. The sound of his amusement was a melody I always enjoyed. If I were not careful, I could lose myself within the staccato of it. 

I turn to the fire, "I was always a bigger fan of music..." I begin, "The thrill of a crowd, the way the big band would swell and fill up the space..." I lean closer, and suddenly my head falls on his shoulder again. His suit smells of bourbon and cinnamon. It's a scent that I wouldn't mind drowning myself within. His body is warm and soft, despite the rigid texture of the material. 

This feels safe...

This feels like home...

This feels-

"You were the best girl in that damned speakeasy.." He says softly, barely above a whisper.

My heart drops to my stomach and my breath gets lost in my throat. Within a matter of seconds, the perimeter of my vision begins to dim to a gradient black. My lungs feel like they are burning with fire within them as his words plague my mind on repeat. Was he saying that he remembered me? There would be no other explanation, no one else but Angel knew of my performances from my lifetime.

How did he know I? Wh-What is going on?

I - I DON'T LIKE THIS FEELING, WHAT'S HAPPENING?!

My head snaps off his shoulder, looking up at him,

"H-How do you know that?" I whisper, my whole body begins to tremble and slowly inch away. I'm doing my best to subdue the chaos that is unraveling in my body, but it's coming to the surface in everything I do. 

He's frozen. For the first time in all my years of knowing him, he looks truly terrified. His eyes tremble slightly, before sighing and turning towards me,

"P-Please..."

That's all that I get, one word? One pathetic, measly little word?

"Who are you?!" I shout, now off of the couch and backing away quicker than before.

~ Alastor's POV ~

No, no, please. Please not like this. Not now. She was finally, finally here again. She was right here. She was on my arm, it was just like it was before. Please don't let this happen.

If I had a heart, her terrified expression and cowering away from me would surely be enough to destroy it.

She looks so terrified of me. Her whole body is trembling. I haven't seen that look since...

I don't want to go there again. I would do anything to prevent us from reversing to there. This wasn't how I wished for her to remember me. I didn't want her looking at me like I was a monster. This was the exact reason I had hid myself from her for so long, but she wormed her way through me like some damn leech and tricked me into opening up to her once more. 

I slowly stand up from the couch, putting my hands up to show her I don't mean her any harm. I wish I could shrink my size, because I can imagine how terrifying I am towering over her.

With this fucking smile.

"It's me, sweetheart. You know it is.."

Her eyes go wide. She's so far away now that I have to follow her to the middle of the parlor. She looks like she's trying to escape death...again.

Worse, it looks like she is trying to run from the sheer memory of me. Why is it not clicking for her? Why is this bringing her such torture? Her mind should restore itself with that information, shouldn't the fog clear and everything become crystal? Why instead did she look as if she was burning from within? The poor thing, she looked like she wanted to crawl out of her skin.

"N-No..."

"It's me, I'm your husband."

"You're not my husband!" She screams, bolting out the door without wasting another second in my presence.

Come back!

I chase her outside, grabbing her wrist. I hear footsteps behind me and worried voices,

"What's going on?" Charlie whispers, her eyes wide as she watches the scene unfold. 

"Help!" She shouts with a whimper to her voice. She tries pulling her hand away, but I hold it firmly.

You don't need to call for help, mon amour, I would never hurt you.

I feel her tiny hands shaking in my grasp and I wish so desperately that I could calm them. "Please, darling, try to remember..." I whisper.

She yanks her hand back. "No! I-I couldn't possibly have -" her voice shakes. "You're scaring me..." Her eyes turn from that beautiful emerald to a bright glowing green. She's becoming undone.

"There's nothing to be afraid of, if you would just listen to me.." I take a small step forward.

Perhaps if I drop my static, she would hear me?

"GET AWAY FROM ME!" She screams in that ear piercing screech of hers. My hands fly to cover my ears, and I can feel my own body beginning to shake.

Just remember me...

Someone brushes past me and through the ringing of my ears, I hear, "Es, what's wrong?!"

I see her cling to Angel, pushing him forward to block me. "Get this old man away from me!"

And she's off, she bolts into the night. I'm left there feeling as if every stitch holding my mouth together is one second away from popping as I lower my hands from my ears.

They sting, but nothing compared to the pain I feel inside.

~ Author's Note ~

I know this scene was supposed to take place by the water, but this felt so much more natural. Sorry for changing it up! 

Can you guys guess what comes next? 👀

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~ Artemis 💗🦌