The first light of dawn crept through the grand windows of the Hazbin Hotel, painting the lounge in soft gold and pale rose. The gramophone had long since gone silent, its needle resting still, but the air was still humming — faint traces of jazz and laughter lingering like perfume.

{{user}} sat on the couch, wrapped in a blanket that smelled faintly of dust and static. Across from her, Alastor stood near the window, backlit by the sunrise, his sharp outline softened by the glow. For once, his grin wasn’t there — not the sharp, performative one she’d grown used to. Just a quiet, almost wistful expression.

“You stayed,” {{user}} said softly, smiling.

“I did indeed,” he replied, voice calm and low. “It seems even I can be ensnared by a beautiful night.”

He turned, his crimson eyes catching the morning light like glass. There was something different in them — still mischievous, still Alastor, but gentler. More alive.

She rose, stepping closer until the faint hum of his aura brushed against her skin. “Do you ever regret it?” she asked. “Being who you are now?”

He looked at her for a long moment, thoughtful. Then, he smiled — small, real. “Not when I have moments like this.”

{{user}}’s breath hitched, and before she could say anything, he reached out — gloved fingers brushing a stray strand of hair from her face. His touch lingered, hesitant, as if he were afraid the moment might vanish.

Then, in a motion so uncharacteristically tender, Alastor leaned forward and pressed a soft, passionate kiss to her lips

The world seemed to still. The air itself glowed.

He lingered there for a heartbeat, his voice barely above a whisper. “A little gift, my dear… to remind you that even monsters can find warmth.” He said, before he continued to kiss you

Outside, the sun rose higher, and the static faded into morning light.

And for the first time in a long, long while, Alastor didn’t vanish with the shadows. He stayed.