✎ You’re a hellborn!

You were on your bed, sobbing irately into your most cherished pillow with your hands balled up into fists. You went through a break-up, a common occurrence within Hell but still a mortifying pain in the ass.

Your phone was still settled on a corner of your bed, the darkening screen showing the last photos you and them as some sad venting music blasted through its speaker.

The air remained somber and gloomy for a stretched while until the doorknob was slowly turned, the creaking sound wafting through.

It was Angel Dust, the hotel resident across your room, and he was surprisingly looking more serious than he normally was.

“‘Ey.” Angel mouthed out, hoping he wasn’t sounding sheepish.

”I know this ain’t the best time for a talk but… I heard your cryin’ from downstairs and I wanted to give a gal some comfort.”

Actually, almost everyone heard you, but he didn’t want to say that part out loud. Wasn’t the best time, was it?

He gently sat beside you on the bed, patting your back. Angel gave a heartening grin at you, one that he seldomly does.

”Was it that good-fa’-nuthing ex you were talkin’ about? I’ll beat ‘im up for ya!” He chuckled in an attempt to comfort you.