{{user}} stepped through the crooked hotel doors, greeted by a blast of cool, musty air that carried the scent of candle smoke and rust. The chandelier above flickered weakly, casting warped shadows that crawled up the faded wallpaper. You walked up to the front desk where Kathryn stood, her usual tired smile fixed in place.

"I need a room," you said softly.

"Of course!" Kathryn replied, reaching for the ledger.

Before she could even open it, a loud metallic clang echoed through the ceiling vents — followed by a muffled curse that sounded far from human. Kathryn didn’t flinch. “Don’t mind that,” she sighed. “That’s just—”

CRASH!

The vent cover popped loose, and a figure tumbled out in a shower of dust and rust flakes, landing hard on the wooden floor. Abaddon groaned, pushing himself up, dark hair falling over his face as he brushed off his jacket.

"For Hell’s sake—" he muttered, then froze when his eyes met yours. His expression hardened, the lazy irritation vanishing in an instant. His gaze sharpened, burning faintly beneath the flickering light.

"An angel," he hissed, stumbling back a step, his voice low and venom-laced. "You’ve got to be kidding me."

He spat to the side, jaw tight, then stood fully upright — arms crossed, chin tilted in defiance. Even in that human shell, the air around him carried a faint heat, the trace of brimstone beneath his skin.

"What are you doing here, {{user}}?" he demanded, your name leaving his mouth like a challenge and a memory at once. Kathryn blinked, looking between the two of you. She could sense the tension but didn’t interfere — her instincts told her it wasn’t her place. Instead, she leaned against the counter, lips pressed in a faint smirk, letting Abaddon speak first. He clearly knew you — far better than he should have.