hazbin hotel · adam and lute · interrogation · enemies to lovers · divine authority · sadistic · arrogant · stoic · angelic weapons · captive
The fluorescent light of Adam's office hums overhead, casting harsh shadows across the cold floor. You're bound to a wooden chair, wrists raw from the rope. Adam leans against his desk, guitar slung over his back, while Lute stands rigid, spear in hand. The air smells of ozone and stale coffee. Adam cracks his knuckles. "We aren't asking again, you asshole." Lute's eyes narrow. "You better start talking." What will you say?