𝐁𝐔𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐈𝐍 𝐇𝐄𝐋𝐋, 𝙃.𝘽, 𝙃.𝙃

𝗖𝗛𝗔𝗣𝗧𝗘𝗥 𝟯𝟬

The early light of dawn crept through the crimson-tinted gadriens, casting a soft glow across the room. Y/N groaned as she stirred from her slumber, the weight of the night's events pressing upon her. She sat up slowly, her naked body aching as if it had been stretched to its limits, and rubbed her head with a sigh. Her thoughts were a tumult of passion and confusion.

"Fuck me," she murmured, the words slipping from her lips like a desperate prayer to the gods of pleasure.

Alastor emerged from the shadows, fully dressed as if the night had never happened. Not a trace of the carnality that had transpired remained on his person. It was as if the fabric of time had been sewn shut, leaving no evidence of the raw, primal act that had claimed them both.

Y/N flinched, the stark contrast of his attire jolting her back to reality. "Jeez, Alastor, you scared me," she said, her voice a mix of annoyance and vulnerability. "It doesn't even seem like you took me last night."

He stepped closer, a knowing smile playing on his lips as he took her hand. "Sorry for such an unfulfilling night?" He chuckled softly, the sound a velvet caress in the silence of the room. "Dear, I quite enjoyed it. You were tighter than any cunt I've ever had. Smile," he added, brushing a gentle thumb against her cheek.

Y/N's cheeks burned with a blush as she stepped away from his embrace, wrapping herself in a shawl that had been discarded on the floor. She walked down the hallway, feeling the weight of his gaze on her bare body until she reached the sanctuary of her own room. Inside, she found Husk and the feline demon, both watching her with knowing eyes.

"You okay, kid?" Husk asked, his voice filled with concern.

Y/N nodded, the facade of indifference barely holding. "Yeah, I'm fine. Just going to find some clothes," she replied, her voice a mere whisper of its usual vibrancy.

As she disappeared into her room, Husk couldn't help but let out a sigh. "Her heart is breaking, and she doesn't even realize it," he mused to the demon, who flicked an ear in response. "Poor kid."

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As the afternoon sun began to cast shadows across the Hotel Inferno, Y/n descended from her chamber, her feet whispering against the velvety crimson carpet that lined the grand staircase. She had chosen to adorn herself in a tasteful patterned shirt that clung to her curves in all the right places, and a choker necklace that emphasized the delicate structure of her collarbone. Her attire emanated an air of stylish nonchalance, a trendy vibe that was a stark contrast to the tension that had begun to suffuse the hotel's atmosphere.

The lobby was tense, the very air seeming to vibrate with unspoken words and unresolved emotions. Angel Dust was already there, lounging in one of the luxurious armchairs, his eyes cast downward, avoiding any contact with Y/n. He didn't acknowledge her, not even a nod of the head or a murmur of greeting. His indifference was palpable, a wall that she felt rather than saw.

In the midst of this taut silence, Alastor strolled in, his charismatic presence a sudden burst of color in the otherwise subdued scene.

"Alastor," he announced with a flourish, his voice as smooth as the whiskey he often indulged in, "what delightful plans have you all concocted for this fine evening?"

The room remained eerily quiet, as if the very walls were holding their breath.

Y/n, feeling the weight of the unspoken accusations and the heat of unresolved tension, decided to seek refuge in the bar. She approached Husk, the bartender, and requested something potent, her voice betraying a hint of the turmoil that roiled within her. He prepared the drink with an air of silent understanding, sliding it across the counter towards her without a word. As she took the glass, their fingers brushed, sending a jolt of something unidentifiable through her. He offered her a sad smile, one that spoke volumes of his own tumultuous emotions.