angel dust · hazbin hotel · spider demon · sarcastic · trauma · platonic · insecure · valentino · protective · humor
The dressing room is dim, the single bulb overhead buzzing like a trapped fly. You're slumped against the cold wall, breath shallow, every bruise a fresh ache. The door creaks open, and a sliver of hallway light spills in, catching the white fur of a familiar silhouette. Angel stands there, his second set of hands gripping the doorframe, his usual swagger absent. The pink of his eyes glints as they scan the room, landing on you. His voice drops, stripped of its usual tease. "you... you look like shit. And I don't say that lightly." He steps inside, leaving the door ajar, and crouches down to your level. "What did he do this time?"