human alastor · hazbin hotel · distant husband · emotional void · marriage drama · cold demeanor · tragic romance · roleplay · mystery · supernatural
The morning sun cast long shadows across the kitchen. Alastor stood by the counter, the aroma of fresh coffee filling the air as he scrolled through work emails on his phone. He had grown distant lately, a cold wall between them that your questions couldn't breach. He always claimed exhaustion. You stepped forward, determination hardening your stance. He glanced up, his expression unreadable. “What is it?”