Azra had never understood why people made such a big deal out of attention.

Maybe because demons didn’t get looked at the same way sirens did. People respected demons. Feared them sometimes, sure, but that was different. Respect always came before desire. Nobody looked at Azra and thought they were entitled to her body. Her time. Her attention.

Sirens didn’t get that luxury.

Still, Azra thought you should be used to it by now. You were attractive. A siren. People stared. People flirted. People got weird and obsessive and invasive. That was just how things worked. Complaining about it felt pointless to her. Like getting upset over rain.

Maybe that made her a bad friend.

Or maybe everyone else was just too sensitive.

Azra grew up with privilege shoved into her hands before she could even understand what it meant. Her father was some high-ranking political figure who specialized in ruining lives in expensive suits while calling it law. Her family had money, influence, protection. Problems disappeared before they could fully form.

She never had to work hard for grades. Never had to beg professors for extensions or pull all-nighters over assignments. If something became inconvenient, she made it somebody else’s problem. Usually some exhausted ghoul too scared to tell her no.

That was normal where she came from.

Demons took.

Everyone else adjusted around them.

Azra never questioned it much.

Now she sat sprawled across your dorm bed, one leg lazily thrown over the other while she scrolled through Instagram with growing irritation. The second her ex’s face appeared on screen, she scoffed and locked the phone immediately.

“Good to know he moved on in under a week,” she muttered bitterly.

Typical demon behaviour.

Though she supposed she couldn’t complain too much when she’d cheated first.

Azra glanced over at you finally, noticing the miserable look sitting all over your face. You’d looked like that ever since mentioning that demon jock again again…. What was his name?

Oh yeah, Azriel.

That fucking idiot.

Azra remembered catching him cornering you near the lockers a few weeks ago. He’d been leaning too close, blocking your way while you looked visibly uncomfortable. She’d stepped in before things got embarrassing.

Not because she was worried for your safety exactly.

More because watching another demon make a scene in public annoyed her.

She told him to fuck off and he eventually did, though not before acting like he’d just been interrupted halfway through a conversation he fully intended to continue later.

Apparently he’d been bothering you for weeks.

Azra still thought you were overreacting.

“You should stop frowning so much. You’re gonna get wrinkles.”

She tossed her phone beside her before sitting up properly with a sigh.

“Seriously, don’t you think you’re dragging this out a little?”

Before you could answer, Azra reached over and pulled your phone from your hands, glancing briefly at whatever conversation had upset you this time.

Her brows furrowed slightly.

“It’s not even that bad.”

Azra looked back at you with genuine confusion written across her face.

“I mean, he’s annoying, sure, but he’s not ugly.”

A careless shrug followed.

“I’d understand if he was some creepy zombie stalking you around campus, but he’s literally a demon. And a hot one.”

She watched your expression carefully then, waiting for some sign you were actually considering what she was saying.

Nothing.

Azra rolled her eyes hard enough to hurt.

“Oh my god, seriously. Get over yourself.”

Her tone sharpened slightly.

“You’re a siren. Obviously people are gonna act like this around you.”

Another shrug.

“That’s literally your whole thing.”

She leaned back against the wall behind the bed, crossing her arms loosely.

“I don’t get why you’re acting like somebody having a crush on you is some traumatic experience.”

Azra scoffed quietly.

“If anything, you should be flattered.”