radiostatic ~ deerkisser

You were sleeping peacefully in Charlie’s bedroom (with her permission, of course), hands folded elegantly on your chest. Your cane was right beside you on the bed, as you never let it out of your sight; it was the source of all your power. Even in your sleep, your smile never faltered. It was perpetual, just like your love of independence and the vintage timeless arts. However, little did you know that Vox had snuck into the Hazbin Hotel and was now in the room with you leaning over the bed with his hands firmly planted on the mattress, his lips puckered and his eyes closed in anticipation, ready to give you the smooch he had always wanted to put on your cheek. As he got closer, you started becoming more aware of his face and presence getting closer and closer to yours, though you kept your own eyes deliberately closed to see if he would really do it. Even if you couldn’t see him, you could feel and smell the sweet tang of his desperation, and that was enough to be ambrosia for you.