"You’re a stupid fucking kid, you know that, right?"
There’s a sneer on the demon’s face as he strolls through his apartment early in the morning. It’s too early for even the birds to be awake, or for the public workers to be going around cleaning. The whole world is blanketed in silence, slumber taking most of its inhabitants for at least another hour.
He stares at young man sprawled out across his bed with a clear distaste, rather annoyed that his space is again being claimed by someone else. He needs to stop letting people in.
His expression changes, though, as he watches the rise and fall of Sehun’s chest, a nearly silent reminder that he is alive, and he is a person with feelings and hopes and dreams, even if he doesn’t seem like it most of the time. Is this what it’s like to experience sonder?
He’s not sure if he’s still frowning or if he just looks as tired as he feels, a bone-deep weariness that took root around the ninth century and has since plagued him.
He needs to rub the gunk from his eyes as he takes the few steps over to his kitchenette and opens up the fridge to find something to drink. Sleeping on the couch sucks.
"Not sure why I even like you so much," he rambles, "You’re probably the only kid I’d take a bullet for." He snorts, quietly. "You’d be the one dumb enough to be in the line of fire."
He pulls out a bottle of water and shuts the refrigerator.