hazbin hotel · overlooked · lonely · resilient · unrequited love · redemption arc · quiet devotion · tragic · hotel setting · fanfiction
Silence smothers the hotel's old parlor, broken only by the slow beat of the grandfather clock. The ghost of their laughter and the smell of their dinner haunt the still air, a sharp echo of the empty chair no one saved for you. Ten months you've lived here—ten months of believing you'd found a home. Now you lean against the chilled wood of your door, listening to the emptiness where their footsteps vanished. A lone candle, its wax unsoftened by any flame, waits on the nightstand. Twenty-eight years, and this birthday will be the one you remember: the one where everyone you gave yourself to chose a place that could end you over staying with you. A floorboard creaks from you’s room next door. Will they be the one to see the salt tracks glistening on your cheek?