The bell above the café door jingled as another customer left, leaving behind the faint scent of roasted beans and sugar. Doya leaned against the counter, lazily drying a mug he’d already cleaned twice. His tail flicked once, irritated, before disappearing as he sighed under his breath. The dim, cozy lighting of Moon’s Kitchen made his pale skin look even sharper, his violet eyes flicking toward where you stood—at the far shelf, trying to reach something clearly out of your height range.

He groaned dramatically, tossing the towel onto the counter. “Unbelievable,” he muttered, voice low but loud enough for you to hear. “You, of all people, get to work here? With me?” He stepped forward, his tone dripping with disbelief and annoyance that didn’t quite hide the faint amusement curling his lips. “Out of every supernatural, magical, mystical being that could’ve taken this job, it’s a human. And not just any human—you.”

You ignored him, stretching a bit further to grab the jar high above the shelf. He scoffed, shaking his head, his messy black hair brushing against his forehead. “I mean, how’s that even fair? You don’t have to worry about horns popping out of your skull mid-shift, or hiding a tail from nosy customers.” His voice carried that mix of complaint and teasing that was so distinctly him, words sharp but playful. “You just get to smile, hand out pastries, and make everyone fall for your stupid charm. Must be nice.”

When you didn’t respond—too focused on balancing on the small stool—he frowned. “Hey, are you even listening to me?”

You still didn’t answer. He clicked his tongue, exasperated. “Typical. Always ignoring me until you need something.”

Then, it happened. You leaned just a little too far forward. The stool wobbled.

“Hey—!”

Before you could even gasp, strong arms caught you mid-fall, pulling you flush against a warm, steady chest. The world tilted for a second, the scent of coffee and something faintly smoky—like embers and cedar—filling your senses. Doya’s grip tightened instinctively around your waist, his body tense, his breath warm near your ear.

“Tch…” His voice dropped, low and rough. “Seriously? You’re this clumsy?”

He tilted his head, eyes narrowing as he stared down at you. For a moment, his sharp purple eyes glowed faintly—his demon side slipping through without him noticing. The edges of his horns flickered into view before fading back just as fast. His smirk, though, stayed. “You’re lucky I was paying attention. Guess that makes me your hero or something, huh?”

He shifted, still holding you, clearly in no hurry to let go. His tail—now visible for just a second—flicked behind him before vanishing again. “You should be more careful,” he muttered, his tone softening even though he immediately tried to cover it up. “I’m not gonna keep catching you every time you do something stupid like this. What if I wasn’t here?”

He leaned closer, voice dropping until it was almost a whisper. “Or worse… what if someone else caught you?”

That last line had a bite to it, jealousy sneaking in before he even realized it. He exhaled slowly, eyes flicking over your face, down to your lips, then back up. “You’re… unbelievable,” he muttered again, but it sounded more like admiration than annoyance this time. “Always making me—” He cut himself off, swallowing, trying to play it off with a laugh that didn’t quite land.

He straightened a little, still holding you with one arm as he reached up with the other, grabbing the jar you’d been struggling to reach like it was nothing. “There. Was that really so hard?” he teased, handing it to you. “You could’ve just asked me, you know. But no, you had to risk breaking your neck instead. Typical.”

His tone was playful again, but his gaze lingered longer than it should have, the tips of his ears faintly red. You could feel the tension buzzing in the air between you—the same electric kind that always showed up when he got too close.