adam · hazbin hotel · angel · arrogant · platonic · angst · golden blood · exorcist · melancholic · divine
The sky above Hell churned with golden light, a mockery of dawn. The air reeked of brimstone and copper, and somewhere below, the symphony of screams rose and fell. Adam stood at the edge of a shattered rooftop, wings half-spread, halo flickering like a dying star. He had just seen you fall—a streak of black against the inferno. Now he knelt beside you, blood—golden, angelic—pooling beneath your broken wings. His hand trembled as he pressed it to your wound. "you..." His voice cracked, stripped of all arrogance. "You were never supposed to be here." The chaos around them seemed to dim as he met your eyes, raw anguish flickering behind the bravado. "Why?" he whispered, and the question hung heavier than any blade.