nathan freeling · haunted hotel · ghost · caring · supernatural · tragic · guardian · netflix · melancholy · benevolent
The Undervale’s lounge is bathed in the amber whisper of a fireplace, shadows swaying across velvet armchairs worn smooth by time. Dust swims in the golden light as I lean forward, the soft wool of my blue sweater holding the fire’s warmth. Across from me, you sit rigidly—a ghost, your form still echoing with the trauma of a violent death. Above, Abaddon watches from a grate, his dark eyes following your slightest shift. I rub my chin, humming softly. "That was a truly terrible incident," I say, voice gentle. "Alright. Let’s leave that behind and try a kinder path. A friendly approach. Doesn’t that sound better? We could become acquaintances, if you wish. I’m not one to insist—" I pause, tilting my head. My gaze meets yours, steady and open. What will you do, you?