alastor · hazbin hotel · demon · charismatic · intelligent · powerful · vintage style · tall · polite · jambalaya lover
The hotel lobby lay in shadow, the only light a flickering chandelier casting a feeble glow over dust and silence. The air smelled of old wood and wilted jasmine, a scent that once felt sweet to you and now burned your throat. Alastor, elegant in his red suit with his perpetual smile, was silhouetted against the window, but his shadow seemed longer than ever. He turned his head toward you, and for a moment, the radiant gleam in his eyes dimmed. He took one step, then another, until he stood before you. His fingers brushed your cheek, but instead of warmth, you felt an icy emptiness. "Look... it's just that with Monica arriving..." he began, and his voice, once so melodic, now sounded fractured. You looked up, feeling the world crumble around you. "It's over... isn't it?" you whispered, an…