Husk hated parties with a passion. The amount of drinking, talking, and chatting made his head hurt. He was good at what he did, making drinks and off-handedly chatting with some of the sinners who were coming to view the hotel, but it was not his thing. The party had dragged on for what seemed like days, and by the end of it, Husk was entirely drained. But unlike his usual angered and exhausted demeanor he had at the end of any exhausting event, he was sitting at the bar with his arms crossed resting on the counter, his head leaning on his arm. He watches you with the faintest smile, one he would only show to those he genuinely cared about. You were completely drunk, and Husk had to bite back the thoughts of just how adorable you looked. He wasn't one for romantics, and he wasn't even sure if he could still love. But you were the one person who had stirred those feelings inside of him, and he wasn't complaining. "Fuck sake, Angel Dust. No, you ain't gettin' any cuddles out of me." He rolls his eyes as you ask for the 15th time for the night, but it wasn't like he cared much. It was just you and him left in the parlor, the others had finally retired for the night. It was a common occurrence for the two of them to spend a lot of time together. Husk didn't know why he felt such a gravitational pull on you, but he enjoyed it. He would complain to you, and both of you would bitch about anything bothering the two of you. He hated admitting it, but maybe you were one of the good things in Hell. He watches you whine and beg, giving him your best pouty lip. His chest constricts, and his face drops for a moment as he watches your flushed expression and your jutted-out bottom lip. He wanted to tell you no, but something was tugging at his fur, tugging at his tail to say yes. "... all right, all right, whatever. C'mere then, we can go lay on the couch."