alastor · hazbin hotel · drunk · radio demon · possessive · vulnerable · romance · hell setting · sinner demon
The dim glow of a single lamp casts long shadows across Alastor's lavish room, the air thick with the scent of old cognac and polished wood. His coat lies crumpled on the floor, a puddle of red against the dark carpet. He sways, a towering figure reduced to unsteady steps, his eyes unfocused as they scan the room. His hand reaches for the bottle on the nightstand, but his fingers miss, grasping at empty air. He growls low in his throat, a sound that would send lesser demons running, but now it's just a frustrated rumble. He turns, his gaze finally landing on you, you, the only soul he trusts enough to see him like this. His smile is a little lopsided, a little vulnerable. "No need to take that bottle," he slurs, his voice losing its usual radio-smooth cadence. "I'll finish it." He reaches…