**CH 11: Words I Shouldn't Have Said**

**WARNING: MILD SMUT AT THE VERY END OF THE CHAPTER**

Something inside Esme's chest flutters as she walks into the home. It has a peaceful energy to it but it called out to her like a siren in the distance. There's a built-in library in the wall of the living room, which has a small fireplace and a chair. She immediately heads to the shelves and starts reading all the titles across the wall, "Wow..." she whispers in awe.

Alastor follows her inside, approaching her at the library from behind. He gets a whiff of her perfume as he approaches her, it was sweet like succulent strawberries and warm vanilla. Such a delicate scent for a woman of such capabilities. He squeezes his eyes shut tightly as a soft groan approaches him, yet he suppresses it by clearing his throat. "I take it you found something that caught your eye?"

She picks up an edition of The Great Gatsby and smiles, "A Gatsby. How did you get your hands on one? I've been looking everywhere." She smiles and flips through the pages.

"Ah, that book? My mother gave it to me before she passed. It's a first edition. My mother had a thing for first edition books."

Esme smiles and admires the book, "Well, she was definitely a woman of fine taste." She pauses, "But...this only came out last year. I'm so sorry I-"

He put his hand up to stop her, he didn't want to go there, "Don't be sorry, you had no way of knowing."

Esme smiles and carefully places the book back on the shelf, "So, where is the rest of the tour?" She walks away, respecting him enough not to pry into a conversation that was certain to uproot emotions he rather leave untouched. As she walks, his gaze trails her across the house. He was deeply falling for her faster than he'd like to admit, all while she was frantically moving from thought to thought to keep her focus away from his auburn eyes. He gently leads her through the home. It was the perfect mix of antique and modern decor with exquisite paintings of different calibers hung on the walls. The wooden floors were beautiful and the walls were painted in gentle, comforting tones of warm creams.

He leads her to the kitchen and smiles, "The heart of the home. What do you think?"

"Mine has an ocean view~" She smirks, sticking her tongue out at him. He chuckles to himself as he gets another whiff of her sweet perfume. He clears his throat again. No woman had ever had this effect on him before. He was slipping. "It's ... you..." She says, snapping him out of his thoughts, "I can imagine you standing here and cooking for hours." She smiles.

Speaking of, an hour goes by and Esme is sitting in the living room looking out the window as Alastor is cooking in the kitchen. Her eyes meet a record player and she smiles as she gets up and places one on the spinner. She smiles as the music envelopes the home and she walks back over to the chair and sits down, flipping through the paper. There was something to be said about the way she just effortlessly made herself at home, no questions asked. Although they were still fairly early into knowing one another, that crucial night that they had met set the tone for their relationship. They trusted their respective counterpart (besides their better judgments) and welcomed the other into their spaces. They enjoyed spending time with one another as there were no expectations to be the shells society claimed for them, just who they were entirely on their own. They didn't have to hide the dark parks of their souls, instead they were celebrated with the other - as twisted as that sounds. 

Alastor works away on their meal, smiling as he hears the music begin to play in the living room. It was a perfect combination with the scent of the cooking food. He was a happy man, truly in his element. He begins to hum the melody as he continues to cook on the stovetop. Esme smiled at him from the living room, observing him and listening to his humming. "It smells delicious!" She calls out.

"It's ready!" He replies, building their plates and setting the table. Esme walks over and begins to slice the bread she brought, drizzling the pieces with olive oil and placing it on the table.

"It sure smells good. What is it?" 

He smiles down at the plates in front of them, "My speciality, Jambalaya. It was my mother's favorite to cook for us to eat. How's it look?"

"Delicious." Esme smiles, "Very colorful." That was true, there were vibrant colors presented in the dish from the numerous peppers. Judging by the scent that escaped it, she could tell that this dish may be a little more spicey than she had anticipated. 

He reaches into his vest and pulls out a flask. "Viola~" He sings as he pours them some whiskey.

Esme waits patiently for him to sit. As soon as he does, she takes a small bite. "Why this is amazing." She notes, covering her mouth with her hand, "We don't have this type of food in Manhattan. Someone should start making this, it's awfully good." 

Alastor chuckles, "Thank you. It's a family recipe, so I'm afraid it can't go back to Manhattan."

"Hmm, my your mother must have been quite the woman." Esme pauses, "She raised such a fine gentleman." She smiles sincerely.

He gently takes another bite of his own before responding with that charming grin of his, "She was indeed a fine and beautiful woman. Very elegant and charming as well, just as yourself." He continued to pick at his food, his back set straight in a prideful stance, "I don't deserve the compliment though, I'm nothing special. I just try to live by the way my mother raised me...to treat women with the respect they deserve."

Esme is completely smitten as he rambles. Oh she could get lost in him if she wasn't careful, lost within his pristine curly mop, those pearly whites, the warmth of his skin. She is hanging on to every word that comes out of his mouth, "I beg to differ." She says instantaneously, "I think you're very special." She takes a sip of her whiskey.

He smiles and follows suit, taking another sip of his drink. "Thank you, mon amor. You don't know how much that means to me to hear you say that."

Esme begins to make fanning motions with her hands to her mouth, "My goodness, you like spice." she chuckles, taking some large gulps of her whiskey, making a face. "It's good, but wow that kick. Maybe I need to start seasoning my food better."

He smiles and chuckles, "What, can't handle a bit of spice darlin'?" There it was, his accent again.

"A bit?"

"Alright, so maybe it's a bit spicy. Nothing wrong with a little spice now and then." He smirks.

Esme's eyes widened at that last comment accompanied by his smirk. She was a lady, but my every once and a while her mind strayed to unholy thoughts of what he would look like in his private quarters. Strange, she rarely desired those thoughts from any dog. She knew far better than that, but there was something in him that set her mind into a frenzy. She takes another large gulp at her whiskey, hoping to subdue those thoughts. As time passes on, she begins to feel light and fuzzy.

"Are you feeling okay there?" Alastor asks.

Esme giggles, suddenly with a new found confidence, "I'm feeling just fine~" Her eyes half lidded.

Alastor laughs and sips, "Someone can't handle their rye." He comments, chuckling still. But she looks so damn pretty under the lighting and she's sitting there in his home, eating his food, looking at him with wonder. He clears his throat for what felt like the hundredth time that evening and finishes his food. "I'll take that." He says, taking her plate and walking to the sink.

Esme shoots up, racing over to the sink, "No no, let me." She says, tripping over herself. He drops the plates from above the sink and catches her, their bodies pressed up against one another. "I-" She looks up at him, suddenly aware of her actions. A blush spreads across her face as she is frozen locked in his eyes.

He looks down at her, her eyes burning with passion for him. He tries his best to restrain himself from her, but she's like a magnet and he can't resist. He grabs her face, closing the distance between them, kissing her softly.

Esme jumps at the feeling, but quickly returns the kiss, leaning into him, wrapping her arms around his neck. He swiftly picks her up and places her on the countertop so they are eye level with one another. The two continue to devour one another, small sounds escaping Esme every now and then. The two break apart and Esme looks up at his eyes, panting softly.

What did I just do? He thinks

Her teeth capture her lip as she softly grabs his jaw, pulling him closer to her as she begins to kiss along his neck. Alastor shuts his eyes and groans loudly and audibly this time, fighting against his hormones to keep his head on straight. 

His face nuzzled into her shoulder. He turns his face to the crook of her neck, finding that scent again. That addicting scent that would drive any man mad. 

He groans as she finds a sensitive spot on his skin, his breath hitching in the back of his throat. He runs his fingers to her hair, gripping it firmly at her head. He had to hang on to whatever control he had left in his body to prevent him from pulling at it harshly. "Darling, if you keep this up, I cannot be held responsible for what may happen..." He says in a low, husky voice, "You drive me absolutely feral."

She giggles and takes her mouth away, resting her forehead on his, caressing his cheek with her thumb. There's yet another one of those beats between the two. She looks pretty, so needy, so damn exquisite in front of him. He leans in to kiss her once again, interrupted by her voice, "I love you." 

His body freezes and his eyes dart back up to meet hers. His stomach tightens, bile begins to build in his throat as he's faced with the impossible. 

What did she just say? 

"You don't need to say it back, but I needed you to know that..." she continues. He's locked in place, his heart beating out of his chest. "I'm so wildly in love with you." 

He doesn't know what to say, his voice is caught in his throat and he just stares at her. His glasses slide off his face and fall on the floor. "Shit." is all he can muster before bending over to pick them up. 

Esme jumps off the counter, the sound of her heels hitting the tile cutting through the awkward moment. 

How could she say that?! There's no way a man such as himself would get swept up into romance - she should've known better! But, the poor thing was too skittish to face the consequences of her actions. 

"I should go..." She says, backing out of the kitchen.

No, please don't leave me! 

His mind screams, but somehow still frozen and preventing him from actually saying it to her.

"I'll see you tomorrow, okay?" She puts on her coat and grabs her purse. "I - thank you for dinner." She smiles, a look of embarrassment on her face before rushing out and closing the door behind her.

"I - " He's left there with his thoughts racing. He looks back at the counter where she was once on, pressed up against his cabinets by his own body. He grits his teeth and throws the dish he was washing across the room, before going to the front door and locking it. He presses his head firmly against the door and sighs, "You have no idea just how adored and cherished you are by me..." he whispers. 

🖤Words: 2064🖤

~ Artemis 🦌💗