Falling

Valentino had given Angel an earful. What was he thinking? He remembered the time he first hopped into Val's limousine after a disagreement with the mob, pummeled and battered by three sharks and another underling demon. The moth motioned to the blood leaking from the face of the spider, but the latter pulled away. Valentino unheeded the decline and quickly cupped its bloodied cheeks into his claws. Angel sat motionless in reaction to the poisonous friction they created, his touch was like the grip of a python and his breath reeked of smoke.

Mista'...

Call me Val.

Next thing he knew was drawing in his breath and the scenary blurred to streaks of red colors everywhere, a trademark of lust, passion, rage and blood— especially blood, then nothing but sheer pain. Angel succumbed and Valentino quenched the flames. Even before that, Angel knew good and well that someone like Val could go from one to ten at the drop of a pin, that this man was not to be trusted. But the red smoke... the cigarette...

"Do you mind if I smoke in front of you?" His voice broke Angel's reverie, both knew the answer, even if it was feigned. The moth leaned back in the leathery seat of his car and blew in a puff. Smoke could calm Angel's frayed nerves, and not always in a pleasant way.

"No, Val." He whispered meekly along the raindrops plummeting against the windshield, followed by a quiet rumble of thunder in the distance. His flushed cheeks elucidated different meanings, including the idea to look back in fear to find out Valentino's merely testing him.

"You seem tense. Something on your mind, baby?"

Angel swallowed. As much as he loathed the rain, he felt fortunate in situations such as these that it concealed his audible gulps. "You... you paged me for a reshoot before time. I'm sorry I didn't page right back, I was just—"

"Playing gourmet with your friends?"

Angel's posture wilted. "How d..."

"Pastelito, I highly doubt cooked rice is your brand-new perfume. I was literally struck by the smell the moment you stepped in... You reek all over."

Angel sighed in response. "Val, I just had—"

"It's been weeks now, you very seldom are this careless about your appearance." He tipped the cigarette butt and took another drag, every sentence seemed to rush out a sinister message in flaring twirls from between his lips. "Lucifer's figlia must have really done a number on you, Angel. It's shutting you down."

"Look, Val," Angel cited, his nethermost set of hands remained clasped together while the one above it clutched at its peer shoulder. "I know it can be a hassle sometimes, I just... I'll make it up to you, somehow."

"And how exactly do you intend to do that?"

"I can pull a double shift tomorrow night. Make it a threefold if I have to, maybe even..."

"Let me paraphrase my question." Valentino said as he controlled the appendages to the inside of his coat. "Disregarding all the increasing numbers you can possibly complement on the clock, how do you plan to fix it?"

Angel sulked over. "I can give you a bl—"

"Oh, Angelcakes!" Valentino cackled with laughter, his face becoming obscured from the dome light by the brim of his hat. "I'm not accepting your coated tongue for a lousy jaunt to the stars in your foul state, don't be cheeky!" He reached forward and ran his fingers through Angel's bonescalp before he suddenly yanked him down. An exclaimed plea resounded skywards with their hips snapped taut by invisible bindings. It was certainly not the worst pain Angel endured in the past, but rather a suffocating feeling of helplessness. A prickly urge to blink off dust and cough and start running. But pain was pain, and it hurt him nonetheless.

"You certainly have grown a knack to piss me off lately, haven't you?" Valentino spat, his words rang on equal terms of disgust and desire, gazing down at his creation, nay leering. Angel was slowly descending in the ocean, while Valentino remained horribly calm and floating on the surface, watching the other drown. His grip tightened the more it struggled to breathe, and then suddenly, he let go. Angel gasped excruciatingly over and over, relief in his eyes until it faltered back to a grimace of complete and utter terror when he realized he was still lost. In the end, he decided it was time to give in to the tides and face the storm.

Angel obliged and trudged out of the limo. As he did so, the sullen pink sinner stole another glance at the purple Overlord, whom began crooning itsy bitsy spider before sliding the window close and instructing his driver to floor it. Angel snarled morosely in reaction to the sight of tail lights glaring back at him before getting smaller until they disappeared.

There he stood in all his tarnished glory, bathed under the downpour. Water was cleansing throughout his trek as well as cold, but he didn't care. He had no care for anything around him at this point, he needed to find something quickly before he'd sink deeper and reach the bottom. Hazbin Hotel's jolly name served as a bitter reminder that part of him was still swimming. Angel skidded to a halt though. Was it wise going back at the hotel? If he were to inform the others, he would be shattered either way. Then again, what else was to be said there?