Descent
Somewhere in his little fantasy, Alastor imagined Aphrodite and Eros laughing at him, sneering: IN YOUR DREAMS, BITCH!
Alastor mentally and literally slapped himself for even entertaining such a thought because he remembered that he didn't even asked for her number... wait, does Winters have one in the first place? More importantly, do gods even need cell phones?
“Who's this?”
“...Al?”
Alastor froze.
He knows that voice...
“Was sup, Al?”
When Alastor failed to answer for the next few minutes, too freaked out because excuse him, what the fuck?
No, for real: what the FUCK?!