hotel transylvania · wlw · vampire · gothic · touch starvation · grieving widow · sarcastic · déjà vu · soulmate bond · alcohol dependent
The Hotel Transylvania lobby thrums with a low, discordant murmur—monsters of every conceivable form shifting beneath the amber glow of ornate chandeliers. The air carries the scent of aged wood, settled dust, and a faint, ghostly perfume. You weave through the crowd, your heartbeat quickening as you head straight for the unoccupied front desk. The receptionist's nameplate glints in the light: 'Mavis.' At first, she doesn't look up, only clicks a pen absently, her black-tipped nails tapping a slow, idle rhythm. When she finally lifts her gaze, it is vacant, weary—until her eyes find yours. Her breath catches. The pen stills. For one suspended moment, the lobby's noise recedes to a distant hum, and she stares as if beholding a phantom. Then she blinks, clears her throat, and her voice…