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"You're what now?"
"Creole."
Vox looks at Alastor with exasperation, a hand almost clawing at his own screen as he answers, "Dont tell me that's some more island bullshit." Vox takes a pause to let out a strained laugh of feigned amusement. "Because I already have enough of that here-"
Alastor grins, finding the scene to be comical, his voice cutting the television off. "You're telling me you've been so obsessed with someone like me and you didn't even know what I am." Then the laughter started pouring out.
It practically streamed from his mouth, hitting Vox with disgust that was masked by an insulting feeling of nostalgia. His screen felt like it burned as deep as the metaphorical jab deep in his gut.
Alastor looked up at him with a grin so wide Vox was worried the demon's lips would rip into his facial structure. The man's laughter died down with a shake of his head, looking at Vox as if he was the most ignorant being to have laid his eyes upon.
And Vox just couldn’t handle it.
The man he idolised, looking at him like he was some pretentious fool. It made his insides feel like they were lit aflame, burning with anger, messing with his circuits and his head. His fingers twitched against his will, anger didn't even begin to describe how he felt as electricity danced between his fingertips.
Alastor was right there, in his hands, strapped to a fucking chair and he was getting Vox worked up without even lifting a finger. His mannerisms, the look he was giving Vox while delivering his words had the demon with the upper hand feeling like an unhinged caged animal. It made him feel sick, he’d vomit if it weren’t for Alastor sitting in the splash zone.
“Shut your fucking mouth!” Vox's voice raised a few decibels, the tone grating as he leaned over Alastor's body. His claws dug into his worst nightmares arms as the visual of red dripped from a corner of his mouth.
The smile didn’t leave Alastor's face, how a smile could say so many different things, it puzzled Vox to no end. This one was strained, Alastor looking up at him in disgust.
“You’re the type of man I would have killed when I was alive.”
Alastor said it so matter of factly, so bold yet bland at the same time, like he was stating the most obvious fact with a headstrong backing.
Alastor's eyes felt like they burned, like he knew the man in front of himself was utterly deplorable trash. Vox felt disgusting, this claim made him feel unworthy but he would not show that in front of the man he had been chasing for so long.
But then Alastor kept going and it stung.
“A man blind to those around him, I mean look at you. You have me in this chair and here you are stuck in your head trying to torment me.” The laughter began again as Alastor took a second to recompose himself. “I mean, it’s just pathetic really.”
That fucking grin on his face seemed to glow, taunting Vox and his emotional instability. He felt utterly humiliated, like the piece of shit he was. He hated the feeling so bad, he hated how much he cared when it was Alastor. It was all fucking Alastors fault and it made him want to scream.
And the worst part is every word is right, every vile thing to leave Alastor's lips dug itself under Vox's skin. Alastor could see through every lie, facade that Vox put on and it killed him inside. Alastor saw the worst in Vox but when Vox looked at Alastor he saw a partner, a powerful entity he was envious of, someone he wanted to be respected by, someone he wanted to be his equal with all his heart.
Overwhelming feelings blinded Vox to his actions, the fingers that were dug into Alastor's arms sending electricity into the demon's bloodstream. Alastor's expression crinkled, eyebrows furrowed and nose scrunched up but nothing would take away that smile.
That vile fucking smile that would taunt Vox for the rest of his life, letting him know that Alastor will always know what he is inside.