@demonicbroadcast gets a small Valentine's Day themed starter !
In hindsight, Vox was forced to admit, at least in the privacy of his mind, that he should have seen this coming. It wasn't the first time that the princess had tried to push him to engage in some of the Hotel's idiotic therapeutical activities, but until now she had accepted his refusals without making much of a fuss. She had been working really hard on "respecting boundaries" and, apparently, she was so dedicated to her self-improvement that said efforts applied even to him.
One more reason why he should have instantly seen that something was cooking when, this time around, Charlie had pestered him relentlessly until he had agreed to join in.
In his defence, these days his life was at the same time so repetitive and so chaotic that he had lost track of the date. So, he hadn't realised until it had been too late that he had been enlisted for a Valentine's themed exercise.
Thus, how he had ended up standing in front of Alastor's door, a bouquet of blood red tulips in his hand, looking like he was about to be sick because of how nervous he was.
"Look, they...I got tricked into this, alright? And bribed too, sort of," he spoke up before the Radio Demon could say a single word. No way he would give them the time to make any sort of assumption. "If I manage to spend a few hours getting along with someone, I won't have to help cleaning up the mess the guests will make fucking around. You're the only person in this stupid Hotel," and in Hell most likely, "who can stand being in my presence and you wanted to help me, right? Well, here's you chance to help me get a break from all that literal crap."
But would it be a break? How could it be when there was bile burning in his throat and a thrumming ache in his chest? Once upon a time, he would have killed to get to be Alastor's date, of any kind, but now...it all felt like a cruel joke at his expenses.
Scrubbing body fluids off the walls and floors would have probably been less unpleasant. It surely would have been less painful. Yet, here he was, choosing to willingly put himself through this absolute torture. Maybe he was truly a masochist, deep down.
"So...you know...Be my Valentine?"











