. . .
“And I wept both night and day,
And he wiped my tears away;
And I wept both day and night,
And hid from him my heart's delight.”
— William Blake
. . .
To be fair, Proserpina was admittedly the first to admit that she loves Alastor Nyx. She had told and given him that quite easily.
(If asked, the goddess of love would beg to differ.)
But in her defense, if there was a person she knows who truly deserved to be loved, then it was him. This one was her’s to love, anyway. The fates had decreed it so and while a part of her initially rebelled at the very idea of a predetermined love, she had come to accept this already… accept him.
Her vow to Hades be damned… surely even the god of the underworld cannot go against the will of the fates itself?
And while the words were surprisingly so easy to say (as it was a fact like the sky is blue, the clouds are white, I think I love you), the truth is… Proserpina hadn’t entirely meant to utter that one out loud. It just sort of slipped out.
Ah, but it doesn’t matter now, does it.
She already said it.
Might as well get through with it.
His joy was well worth it, after all…
She remembered reading somewhere once that love is supposed to be a give and take, a price for each thing freely offered. That love is supposedly built upon the foundation of trust, loyalty, and respect.
Absurd, certainly, but love itself is absurd, irrational.
Therefore, love…
Proserpina’s gaze silently trailed and lingered upon their hands for a moment or two, then at the werewolf contently walking by her side.  
(…love is a folly whispered in a͎̠̗͛̓̓ͦ̀ ̬̠̬͙͂ͤ̂́m̶̠͉ͬ̓ͯ͒o̶͖̻̝̘̙̘̎m̛̫̟͚̦ͥ̃ͮ̾e̷͓̝͈͚̗̣͓̬̿ͮň̯̖̩ͩ̆͡t͕̭͔̞̻̉ͭͦ͋͠ͅ ̧̩̱͖̌o͚͔̩͓̣̊ͦ̚͢f͎͙͙̺͔͕̀͝ ̴̝̦̘͎͍͔͓͕̾͊̃m̬̭̬̯̹̩ͩ̏͗͐̕ā̟̹͇̯͇̺̞̖͗ͥ͟ḓ̷̙͓͛̋͋͊n̸͉̫̥͙̜̦ͤ̚ȅ̸̫̲̬͎͇s̢̗̥͚̈́͛̋͋s͉̲͎͙͐͜.)
Still, she held on tight, knowing that even this is fragile.
She is perfectly aware how even this shard of happiness came with dangerous edges, and she would feel their cuts sooner or later.
Death itself had promised her that.
…for in all but name, the two of them are already together.
But with William still missing, Proserpina couldn’t bring herself to enjoy their relationship, let alone focus on this… whatever they are now, and Alastor was considerate enough not to push after everything.
Since then, they had been taking very slow steps, with slight but noticeable traces of affection from time to time, but never anything that's so aggressively obvious. Screw whatever Dionysus or Thanatos says, Proserpina is not into PDA.
But sometimes…
Sometimes Proserpina cannot help but wonder if Alastor minded that they usually acted like close friends than something more…
That was why she was genuinely caught off guard when Alastor gently slipped behind her, his footsteps intentionally loud as if to announce his presence only hours after that particular hunt, arms wrapping around her as he mumbled the words to her hair:
“…I love you.”
Her breath caught in her throat.
And for a moment, Proserpina could only stand there uselessly, her mind blanking out as she desperately tries to think what to say, how to even respond to that, to hear and listen in on the lie. On the catch… because there’s a catch.
There’s always a catch–
…but there was nothing.
There was only Alastor Nyx who was still hugging her from behind like she was an oversized teddy bear he needed to cuddle for absolutely no reason, as if he did nothing out of the norm.
As if all was right in the world.
“…I know,” Proserpina finally settled on saying, not bothering to look up to see the predictably happy smile on his face right now.
The next time it happened, it happened much faster than she could have expected, let alone predicted. Proserpina had just assumed that Alastor was probably in an affectionate mood that one time, especially since she just had a panic attack in front of him (she was still embarrassed and furious with herself for letting that happen) and decided to not focus on that incident too much, he didn’t even seem to act very much differently towards her after the rest of that night, after all.
Of that, she had been grateful.
“Hi, Winters. Tadaima~!” Alastor suddenly announced on the next night, bouncing happily into the room from… wherever Dionysus had decided to bring him along with for the rest of the day.
Something about a boys’ night…?
Proserpina felt her lips quirking into a small smile at his cheerfulness, allowing herself a moment to enjoy his warm gaze and the happiness practically oozing out of him for a second or two before looking at her mate from head to toe… at least wherever Dionysus had deigned to bring him along, Alastor is not hurt.
“Mm, okaeri,” she greeted back.
…his Japanese is improving at least.
She had expected for Alastor to start talking about where and what he and the god of wine had been up to, so she automatically stepped away from Tokyo’s maps that she had spread out on the table to pay attention to him…
What she didn’t expect is Alastor going straight to her, hugging, and cuddling her with his arms wrapped tightly around Proserpina, a happy, humming sort of sigh leaving his lips.
On second thought, it actually felt like a growling purr.
Wait, purring?
“Um… what…?”
Her hands hover unsurely over him.
She’s never one to be so openly affectionate and Alastor mostly respected that. They don’t usually hug, not unless the other (read: she) really needed it.
But this is nice, too.
“…”
Her eyes widened.
Wait a minute…
Oh, no.
Something must have happened…!
Proserpina tilted her head slightly to get a look at him. But just as she opened her mouth to ask him what’s wrong, what happened, she felt more than she heard it: “S'agapó.. I missed you sooooo much…” Alastor was mumbling against her shoulder.
…since when did he learnt how to speak Greek?
Wait.
Didn’t she just saw him hours earlier…?!
Still, despite knowing that, her face instantly felt too warm and her heart too big for such surprisingly sweet words.
She merely patted him on the back with nothing better to say. Alastor didn’t seem to mind her lack of response, he merely beamed at her like a ray of sunshine after months of snow. And as he started talking about his day, he continues to hold on to her for a few, more lingering seconds before casually stepping away and asking about her’s like he didn't just stun her to stillness.
…but by the third time it happened though, Proserpina couldn’t help but feel suspicious. Paranoid, as what Dionysus (and William would have) called her.
Third’s time the charm, or so they say.
The two of them just returned back to their hotel room in Tokyo, a day after they had ensured that Aogashima is safe from any lingering, pyromaniac ghosts.
Apollo (finally found her new number, no surprise there. The goddess of love is nothing but petty and vengeful–) had been texting and trying to call her almost nonstop these days, with questions ranging from asking about her well-being, about William, if her ‘puppy’ is still alive, to just blatant flirting…
The nerve.
She just told him she’s already spoken for!
And as she stared at the invasive, borderline inappropriate messages with a twitching eye, Proserpina felt Alastor hovering and lingering behind her.
Subtlety is really not his strongest suit.
She assumed that Alastor was trying to sneak a peek at her cell phone, so Proserpina turned slightly to look at him over her shoulder. She might be inexperienced when it comes to relationships, but she knows perfectly well that some of Apollo’s messages might lead to some sort of misunderstanding…
“It’s not what you think–”
But he only hugs her from behind again.
And instead of dealing with a sulky werewolf, Proserpina found herself cut off by a chaste kiss on the forehead, followed by another on her nose and then, a lingering one on the side of her mouth.
“You… are… so cute when you get mad! Aishiteru…” Alastor was saying, his voice fond, as he nuzzled against her cheek and chin like a purring housecat. And the way he told her I love you in Japanese was so heavily accented, so husky and genuinely shy, that Proserpina couldn’t even begin to react to that.
Apollo’s text messages have been left unread.
(Later… much, much later, when her face finally cools down and her heart has deigned to stop beating like a frantic, war drum, Proserpina would remember to read the rest of the messages out loud to him, only because Alastor had curiously asked about it:
“Wow, so many emojis…” he commented with an impressed whistle, browsing through some of the messages she had shown him. “I know I’m guilty of that myself but… wow…”
“I knew it. That amount of emojis is just too much.”
“Yeah. Was this really necessary? Damn.”
Proserpina huffs, “Tell me about it.”
“I think he’s just messing around…”
“And I think those emojis are giving me psychological damage,” Proserpina groaned, rubbing tiredly at her eyes. “Maybe he’s doing that just to hurt me…?”
“I don’t think Apollo’s that much of a sadist, Win…”)
But still, she was suspicious.
Did something happen? Or maybe there was something Alastor did? Because whenever the werewolf did something he thinks she wouldn’t approve of, he had a strange tendency to act so nice and sweet towards her throughout the rest of the day, as if he was buttering her up. As if feigned kindness is enough to soften the blow...
(‘It does, actually. You spoil him,’ Thanatos complains.)
Proserpina struggled to keep her face calm.
Still, despite her best efforts, it just felt strange to be addressed so sweetly out of the blue. It is such an odd feeling, being the subject of concern and care, especially with the knowledge that said feelings are genuine. Don’t get her wrong, it is flattering, but it is still so odd.  
She’s not used to it, and it felt so wrong to feel so loved…
Which is why…
“Enough is enough. What did you do?”
He blinked, “I’m… hugging you?”
“Are you telling me or are you asking me that?”
“Uh, sorry,” he let go, “Did I made you uncomfortable?”
Proserpina gripped him tight before Alastor could move further away, the makings of that familiar, kicked-puppy look beginning to show on his face. Damn that look. “No. It’s just… why do you keep saying that? You startled me. I don’t even know what to say...”
“What?” he furrowed his brows, “Saying what?”
“You know…”
“Huh, I don’t really kn… oh.”
She should not have said anything.
But a sly grin was already creeping up to his lips as his eyes sparkled mischievously in realization before he was back to nuzzling her cheek again, back to being a purring housecat, “Why, Winters! Were you trying to answer that?”
Proserpina scowled.
His grin only widened when he caught her glaring at him, “Aw! You did! But… you didn’t really have to answer that, you know. It wasn’t a question. I was just telling you.”
“What,” Proserpina uttered, “Why?”
Alastor pouted a bit, as if disappointed that she even had to ask, “Because I wanna let you know that I love you? I’m reminding you of my feelings, just because…? Do I really need a reason to say it?”
…oh.
Still confused and unsure with what or how to respond to that, the goddess of shadows silently reached over to pat him on the head, her fingers gently combing through his hair as she did so.
I know, she wanted to say, I know you love me.
Thank you, was on the tip of her tongue as she watched him close his eyes as he leaned in to her touch, that growling purr she’s come to know rumbling at the back of his throat in delight now even more apparent. I think I really needed to hear that.
…I love you too.
In the end, she said nothing.
…Proserpina only continued to pat his hair until he suddenly bursted out laughing once he had gotten over his initial surprise.  
“I… I’m a werewolf, Winters, not a dog!” Alastor managed to tell her, still wheezing between fits of giggles as he held on to her hand still on top of his head. “…but okay. Since you’re so cute, this kind of works for me too.”
She sighs, withdrawing her hand. “Alastor.”
“Winters.”
“Please be quiet.”
“What… w-wait, noooo! Head pats, come backkkk!”