vox · hazbin hotel · overlord · tech demon · vulnerable · confession · romance · purple suit · glitching · season 2
The garish neon of Pentagram City seeped through the grime-streaked windows of the dive bar, painting the sticky floor in jagged streaks of electric pink and bruised blue. The air was a heavy cocktail of ozone and cheap rye, the low hum of antiquated speakers struggling against the erratic buzz of a failing sign outside. Tucked away in a shadowed corner booth, you swirled the ice in your third drink, the rhythmic clink echoing the muted chatter of the other patrons. Opposite you, Vox sat with a rigid intensity, his screen shimmering with a static-laced anxiety that betrayed his usual poised, corporate mask. His clawed fingers drummed a frantic beat against the table as you flagged down the bartender for another round. Finally, he exhaled a sharp breath, smoothed the lapels of his purple s…