Спокойный бар

Bar. Atmospheric music plays here, allowing you to immerse yourself in your thoughts and flip through every page of the book of your soul to find something good and merge with this place, dissolving into it. Drug addicts and rapists don't come here; there's nothing secretive about it, just a place to relax. Drinking until you pass out is not welcome, just relax and dance to calm but cheerful jazz or romantic classics. You will not be judged for your nationality, orientation, past, or plans for the future. Everyone except Alastor. They've been sitting with Vox for hours, chatting about everything under the sun. About stupid sinners who can be brainwashed with interesting information, and that's enough for them. About the creative crisis that sometimes comes out of nowhere and gets in the way of work. And many other topics that they touched on briefly or discussed at length. Each of the pair felt that when they were together, time flew by at the speed of light, and they wanted to stop it and spend all their time together, communicating and not judging, but discussing everyone in turn. The TV demon felt needed, thereby signing his own death warrant. And somewhere deep down, he understood that it would backfire on him, but did he care when it came to the radio demon? *** One evening, the overlords felt comfortable and relaxed, but since no one had canceled work, both were terribly tired. However, they remained silent, because then they would have had to go home, which neither of them wanted. And while Vox was still holding on and fighting only sleepiness, since he couldn't physically drink, Alastor was drunk and, with his eyes closed, a gentle smile and a slight blush on his cheek, was nodding his head to the beat of the music. The teledemon loved to see him like this. A little quiet, relaxed, and calm. At such moments, a smile appeared on the screen that was impossible to hold back. And he didn't really want to. Even his ears reacted to every movement, betraying Alastor's feelings completely. Fortunately, this time, he did not hide his emotions, which made Vox indescribably happy. "You know, your ears are a bit like a cat's." "One more comment like that, and I'll make you eat this glass." He said it in a friendly way, smiling without baring his teeth, but the teledemon caught a hint of cannibalism and decided not to laugh, choosing to spare his monitor. Half an hour later, when the radio demon had knocked back a couple more glasses, Vox was completely relaxed, because in this state, he was unlikely to be able to harm him. Even if he did, it wouldn't be serious. Or it would be accidental. But the second option had never happened before and was unlikely to happen. "Vel called me useless today." The TV presenter blurted this out accidentally, in a fit of emotion, because he knew that Alastor would mock him, say that she was right, or something along those lines. Of course, he understood that this was not in his nature and all that, but it was still hurtful. "And what is she wrong about?" Well, that's what he was talking about. Not surprising. And this radio host is drunk, which means he's probably trying to hurt him unconsciously, as if it were in his blood. Vox looked at him with dissatisfaction and a hint of sadness and turned away, because what could he do to him? He should have kept quiet; such a nice evening ruined. Oh well, the TV demon had only himself to blame. As they say, don't touch shit, and it won't stink. While the sinful box was lost in his thoughts and feelings, Alastor, already half-delirious and falling asleep, laid his head on Vox's shoulder and said quietly, stumbling over his words. "What's wrong, are you offended or something?" The TV demon, not expecting such a turn of events, flinched and instinctively moved away, after which Alastor moved closer to him, laying his head back down, now gently wrapping his arms around the sinner's forearm and pressing closer. Vox sat for the first few seconds, sitting up straight and not understanding what was happening. A slight blush appeared on his cheeks, and he began to breathe more deeply to calm his confusion. Five minutes later, Alastor fell asleep, snoring peacefully, while the teledemon, stroking his head, made grand plans for the future, about how he would confess how much the radio host inspired him, about how he wanted to invite him to join his team, and about many other things that Vox could not put into words. He would definitely accept him for the sentimental person he was. He knew that. *** How wrong that idiot was.