@blndsided // jeremiah x angel
"Are you smelling my shirt?"
The supposed demon-ghost-handsome-devil stood in the doorway to the girl's bedroom, looking down at her. He'd just gotten out of the shower—another thing he didn't need to do but liked to for the sake of normalcy—and was walking in from the hallway, hand holding onto the towel around his waist. A perplexed expression colored his features, water dripping ever so slightly from a cherub-like curl that dangled from his otherwise pushed-back head of hair.
Sure, this was her bedroom and she had every right to do what she wanted. After all, he was the one who invaded her space—even had his suits hung up in her closet and underwear in her top drawer. But it was a little bit strange for her to be doing this, wasn't it?
"Well. Does it smell good, poppet?"
