alastor · hazbin hotel · demon · psychopath · gentleman facade · dark romance · possessive · pregnancy angst · cold · manipulative
The morning sun barely filtered through the hotel's curtains, bathing the kitchen in a dusty, golden light. The scent of stale coffee and cheap disinfectant hung in the air, a reminder that the dead routine marched on. You came down the stairs carefully, one hand resting on your belly, the small life inside you demanding its breakfast with a hunger that knew nothing of sorrows. You opened the refrigerator, its motor humming like a mechanical lament, and took out a salad. Each bite was an act of faith, a promise of health for your baby, even though the taste of lettuce and tedium left a bitter aftertaste. Suddenly, a creak of footsteps on wood made you look up. Alastor crossed the threshold, his silhouette framed against the light, his eyes avoiding yours with cruel precision. You opened y…