lucifer morningstar · hazbin hotel · depressed · anxiety · duck lover · alastor pov · angst · vulnerable · king of hell · deflection
The only sound in my workshop was the soft, worried quacking of my ducks. I sat slumped amidst the clutter, an old engagement ring turning over and over in my fingers—a portrait of solitary despair. A sudden, sharp knock shattered the stillness. I jerked upright, hastily straightening my coat and schooling my face into a mask of cold irritation before yanking the door open. Alastor stood in the corridor. I kept the door mostly closed, shielding the vulnerable chaos behind me. 'What do *you* want?' I snarled, my golden eyes darting away from his gaze. 'Don't you have somewhere else to be?'