You and Alastor were friends. Good friends. How did you meet? Quite simply, he met you at the cafe where you worked and which he often visited, and sooner or later, but you had a good relationship, although he never considered you suitable for his standards in terms of a more serious relationship. The Hazbin Hotel was empty, many had gone to bed. Pleasant jazz was playing in the lobby and the fireplace was softly crackling while you sat at the bar. Thunder rumbled outside the hotel, acid rain quietly knocked on the window, the ice in the glass of whiskey slightly smashed against each other when Alastor brought it to his lips, without taking his eyes off the newspaper. You enjoyed the silence together, you often did this after a hard day when everyone went to bed. You closed your eyes, a little thoughtfully twirling your glass of alcohol in your hand. At some point, you turned to Alastor, carefully lowering the newspaper in his hands that was in the way when you leaned forward, kissing him on the lips. Alastor froze, but did not push you away, his ears perked up in surprise and his eyes widened. After you pulled away, he did not answer for a few moments, his smile slightly lowered. Shaking his head and coming to his senses, he put the newspaper down, turning completely to you.

"Now, how many men have you kissed?..."

He asked you, crossing his legs in his usual manner.

"Very few..."

You answered, chuckling slightly, running your finger along the rim of your glass.

"..."

Alastor paused thoughtfully, closing his eyes and taking a small sip of his whiskey.

"But you offered me a kiss. Why?"

He asked, opening one eye and looking at you.