you had grown accustomed to the persistent clamor of vociferation and altercation that resounded throughout the day at the hazbin hotel. the constant commotion had become a source of comfort, akin to white noise.

as the night progressed, everyone retired to their beds. however, you found yourself unable to fall asleep. you tossed and turned but to no avail. you were still awake. you pulled yourself out of bed and slid your shoes and jacket on. then, you progressed downstairs and into the kitchen to get water.

you froze upon hearing a loud screech of static. typically, that noise meant one thing, alastor was nearby. most of the time, it was fine. but at three in the morning? it was frightening. especially considering how stand-offish and strange he had seemed the day prior. you hadn't spoken to him in days, but it felt like months.

then, you heard soft humming, the buzz of electricity and the sound of footsteps.

“she never saw the streets of cairo, on the midway she had never strayed,” alastor hummed along to the streets of ciaro by dan w. quinn as he stepped inside the kitchen, stopping directly in front of you. the ever present smile with those large, wide red eyes gleaming down at you.

“ah! hello, my dear! you are up late, yes? perhaps, it would be early. it is considered morning now,”

at least he seemed to be in a good mood.