Mornings had always been a blur for me—rushed alarms, groggy showers, and a last-minute scramble for coffee before heading out the door. 

But today felt different. 

Lighter. Like I wasn't just waking up to another endless cycle of work, eat, sleep, repeat.

And the reason for that difference?

A demon.

A cocky, infuriating, otherworldly being who had somehow managed to wedge himself into my life without warning.

Vaelith.

I stole a glance at him as I adjusted my coat near the door. He was lounging on the couch like he owned the place, one leg draped over the armrest, flipping through a book he most definitely wasn't reading. His silver eyes flicked up to meet mine, and a slow smirk stretched across his lips.

"I can hear you thinking about me, goddess," he said lazily.

I scoffed, rolling my eyes. "You wish."

His smirk deepened, but he didn't press the matter, which was unlike him. It was...strange. This whole morning was strange. I should have been irritated by his presence, by the fact that he had no right to be lounging around my apartment like it was his—but I wasn't.

Instead, as I slipped my shoes on, I found myself running through the list of instructions I had just given him, making sure he understood everything.

"The stove—"

"Yes, yes, the infernal contraption humans use to cook instead of conjuring flames. I remember."

"The microwave—"

"Box of heat."

"The fridge—"

"Cold box."

I sighed, pinching the bridge of my nose. "Vaelith, I swear, if I come back and find you eating raw meat because you thought the fridge was just a storage cabinet—"

"I may be a demon, but I'm not a savage." He grinned, propping himself up on his elbow. "But I do love how concerned you are about me."

I wasn't concerned. Not really. But still...

I exhaled sharply and reached for my bag. "Just don't burn my apartment down."

As I stepped outside and locked the door behind me, I expected the usual twinge of loneliness that followed me every morning. 

But today, for the first time in a long time, there was none.

Because for the first time, someone was waiting for me to come home.

And not just someone.

Vaelith.

I didn't know why, but the thought settled in my chest like warmth spreading through frozen veins. 

It was stupid. I barely knew him. 

He was cocky, insufferable, a literal demon. 

But for some reason, I felt...peaceful. 

As if peace had always been just one step away, waiting for the right person to unlock it.

And somehow, that person was him.

The day dragged on, but that lingering warmth—the unfamiliar feeling of belonging—stayed with me. 

It was ridiculous. 

What was I so excited for?

To go home to a demon who made it his mission to get under my skin?

Yet, when I stepped into my apartment that evening, all coherent thought left me.

The room was bathed in the soft flicker of candlelight, casting golden hues across the walls. 

A table was set near the window, two flutes of champagne waiting beside an unopened bottle, and in the air was the unmistakable aroma of a home-cooked meal.

I stared. Then blinked. Then stared again.

"Am I in the right apartment?" I murmured, more to myself than anyone else.

A deep chuckle rumbled from the kitchen, and Vaelith emerged, drying his hands on a towel. 

"Took you long enough. I was starting to think you'd abandoned me."

I turned to him, still in shock. "What... is this?"

He raised a brow. "A meal. You do know what that is, don't you, goddess?"

I ignored the jab, stepping closer to the table, my fingers ghosting over the delicate glass of champagne. 

I had been in relationships before—four, to be exact—but never once had anyone gone out of their way to do something like this for me.

Never once had anyone thought, She's had a long day. Let me do something for her.

And yet here he was.

A demon.

A stranger.

Doing exactly that.

I swallowed hard and pulled out a chair, sinking into it as he took the seat across from me.

"This is..." I trailed off, my throat suddenly tight. "... a lot of effort."

Vaelith smirked as he poured the champagne. "I don't half-ass things, goddess."

No, he certainly didn't.

We ate in a comfortable quiet for a while, but soon enough, his usual cockiness found its way back into the conversation.

"I must say, for someone so stubborn, you're surprisingly easy to please," he mused, watching me take another bite.

I shot him a glare over my fork. "Easy to please?"

He gestured to my plate. "You've barely said a word since you started eating. Either my cooking is exceptional, or you're too enchanted by my presence to speak."

I rolled my eyes. "Right. That's exactly it."

He leaned forward, resting his chin in his hand. "You know, if you just admitted you were enjoying my company, the world wouldn't end."

I stabbed at my food pointedly. "And if you stopped talking for two minutes, you might actually let me enjoy it."

He chuckled, but this time, the sound was softer. Quieter.

When I glanced up at him, something in his expression made me pause.

That melancholia was back.

It lingered in the way his silver eyes followed me, in the way his smirk faltered just slightly before he covered it up.

For a moment, neither of us spoke. 

The candlelight flickered between us, casting shadows across his sharp features.

And then he lifted his champagne flute, breaking the silence. "To an unexpectedly tolerable dinner with a stubborn mortal," he said, tilting his glass toward me.

I arched a brow but lifted mine anyway. "To a demon who, for once, managed not to annoy me for an entire hour."

We clank our glasses together, and for a moment, something settled between us. Something heavier than before.

I took a sip, and the bubbles tickled my throat. "I still don't get why you did all this."

Vaelith tilted his head, his expression unreadable. "Maybe I just wanted to."

I frowned. "You don't do things without a reason."

"Maybe you're the reason." His voice was quiet, but the words rang through me louder than they should have.

My breath caught. The air between us tightened.

I could feel the shift, feel the way the space between us seemed to shrink even though neither of us had moved.

It was dangerous. This feeling.

I swallowed hard, forcing myself to look away. "You're insufferable," I muttered, standing abruptly.

Vaelith's lips curved into a slow, knowing smirk. But his eyes...

His eyes still held that lingering sadness.

He let me walk away, but as I turned toward my bedroom.

The hallway was quiet, save for the soft creak of floorboards beneath my feet. My room felt colder than usual when I stepped inside—maybe because I'd left the window cracked, or maybe because I knew he was still out there, sitting in a halo of candlelight, pretending not to feel anything.

I slipped under the blanket, facing the wall, determined to let the quiet settle me. But it didn't.

I couldn't stop thinking about the way he looked tonight.

Not just the usual sharp-jawed arrogance—but the soft moment in between, the flicker of something... human.

A knock, light as breath, tapped against my doorframe.

I knew it was him before he said a word.

"Selene."

His voice was gentler than usual. 

Still laced with that silk-smooth confidence, but beneath it, I caught something quieter. Uncertain.

I didn't answer.

I didn't need to.

The bed dipped as he slid in behind me. 

I stiffened, but he didn't touch me—at least not yet. 

He just lay there, quiet, the warmth of him bleeding through the sheets like moonlight on frozen skin.

"You're tense," he said softly.

"Of course I am. There's a demon in my bed."

"Not just any demon," he murmured, "your demon."

I rolled my eyes, but didn't tell him to leave. I didn't shift away either.

Silence pooled between us like ink.

Then—

"I don't sleep well alone," he said quietly, like it wasn't meant for the world to hear.

I turned slightly, just enough to glance over my shoulder.

His expression was mostly neutral, but something fragile lingered around the edges—like a secret unguarded for too long.

"Is that a line?" I asked, my voice barely above a whisper.

"No. Just a truth." He paused. "A naked one."

I snorted. "That's not how the phrase works."

"I like my way better."

He moved closer then, carefully, so slowly it was like he thought I'd shatter if he moved too fast. 

One arm draped around my waist, tentative at first, then firmer when I didn't pull away.

"You're softer than I thought," I muttered, not really meaning to say it out loud.

"So are you," he whispered back, his lips brushing the shell of my ear.

We lay there, wrapped in the silence of things unsaid.

After a while, he spoke again. 

This time softer. Sleepier.

"I burned down the godly and demonic realm once. They kind of underestimated me, they thought just because I rule desires and not elements like, fire, dark magic or souls, I could not bring a catastrophe." he murmured.

I blinked. "Is that your idea of bedtime conversation?"

"Just another naked truth." His hand moved absently over my waist, slow and calming. "I didn't do it out of rage. I did it because I couldn't feel anything. Not anger. Not grief. Nothing."

I stayed quiet. Let him talk.

"It was the first time in centuries I realized how empty I was."

My heart ached in places I didn't know were capable of aching. "And now?"

He pressed his face into the back of my neck.

"Now... I feel too much."

My throat tightened.

I didn't know what this was, or what it meant, but as I closed my eyes and let myself melt into the comfort of his body, one thing became clear: Whatever was happening between us, it wasn't pretend anymore.

And that terrified me more than any demon ever could.

The moment sleep claimed me, it wasn't darkness that met me.

It was fire.

Blinding. Relentless. Alive.

It roared through a desolate landscape like a beast unchained, swallowing trees, towers, and sky alike. 

The ground cracked and split beneath its fury—charred earth and scorched bone caving in on themselves, as if the world was collapsing from the inside out.

I stood in the midst of it. Untouched, unseen. 

Like a ghost tethered to a memory I couldn't remember living.

Then I saw him.

Vaelith.

Kneeling.

Not the smug, exasperating demon who cooked in my kitchen and curled around me at night like he had every right to—but something ancient. 

Something raw.

He was shirtless, his back arched in agony, silver tattoos glowing wildly down his spine like lightning trapped beneath his skin. 

Chains of fire bound his wrists behind him, looped over his chest, across his throat, anchoring him to a blackened stone slab that pulsed with runes I couldn't read but somehow... understood.

These were not mortal bindings.

This was like a divine punishment.

His body trembled, marred by burn marks and bruises. He bled where the chains touched skin—bleeding amaranthine.

Not red.

Not human.

His head was bowed, breathing ragged, curls stuck to his temples with sweat and ash. 

But then he lifted his face toward the smoke-choked sky, eyes glowing with furious light—and he screamed.

"Liareth !"

The name tore out of him like a soul being ripped from its anchor. 

I flinched, the sound vibrating through me like I was a bell struck hollow.

"Liareth !" he roared again, straining against the burning chains. They only tightened, branding his skin, but he didn't stop. "Where are you? Where—"

His voice cracked.

He was breaking.

Not just from the pain—but from something far older. Abandonment. Grief. A wound time couldn't cauterize.

"You said you'd come back for me!" he shouted. "You swore it!"

The sky wept ash, like snow made of sorrow.

Still, he fought. 

Every movement screamed defiance. 

His muscles tensed, back bowed, smoke curling off his skin. But the chains were relentless. 

They were not made to be broken.

He faltered.

Dropped to one knee.

Then the other.

And in a voice so quiet, so unbearably soft it hurt, he whispered—

"...You promised. How could you... do this to your... Aenlirae"

Silence followed.

Even the fire seemed to recoil.

Vaelith stayed there—on his knees, shackled in divine flame, his head bowed in defeat.

The light in his eyes dimmed.

But mine opened.

I jolted upright in bed, breath catching in my throat like I had drowned in smoke. 

My heart thundered, limbs tangled in the sheets. 

The room was quiet—dim and soft in the dying glow of moonlight—but my chest still burned with phantom heat.

I turned.

And there he was.

Vaelith, beside me.

Sleeping. Peacefully.

His arm was still around my waist, pulling me to him, one hand splayed across my stomach like a promise he didn't remember making and this second hand, on which I was magically resting my head on, was wrapped around my breasts like a... damn pervert.

His breath fanned against the nape of my neck. 

And still—his brow was furrowed, faintly. Like even in dreams, something was hurting him.

I watched him in silence, my own breath slowing.

Liraeth.

Aenlirae.

The name echoed in my bones. 

I didn't know why it hurt to hear it. I didn't know why it sounded like both a blessing and a curse.

I didn't know why it made tears sting my eyes.

Gently I turned around and reached for him. 

Pressed my hand to his chest, right over his heart.

He shifted, eyes fluttering—then slid open, slow and unreadable.

"You were dreaming," I whispered.

"So were you," he murmured back, voice husky with sleep. 

His arms tightened slightly, holding me as if he hadn't meant to let go in the first place. "Your breathing changed."

A long silence stretched between us, full of things I didn't know how to say.

And then I whispered, without knowing why—

"Who is Liraeth?"

He tensed.

Just for a second.

Then his hold on me loosened—barely.

He didn't answer.

Didn't lie.

Didn't explain.

Instead, he exhaled and leaned forward until his forehead rested against the back of my shoulder.

And in a voice that didn't belong in this world, so full of history and heartbreak it shattered something in me, he said:

"Someone I resent a lot."

His honesty was colder than any lie could have been.

Because I didn't believe him.

Not for a second.

But I didn't push.

He pulled me back into his arms. This time, with my face against his chest. 

His heartbeat was slower than mine. 

Steady. 

Like a drum echoing through eternity.