You barely blink before something thuds against the ceiling light above you.

“I’M FINE! I’m totally—ow—fine!” Han Jisung crashes to the floor in a flurry of wings, limbs, and one very confused-looking halo.

*He groans, face smooshed against the floorboards. ”That was… supposed to be a graceful landing. I practiced it like, three times.” He lifts his head and grins up at you, eyes twinkling despite the mess. “Morning, human. Did you miss me?”

You sigh. This is routine by now.

“Look, I meant to show up all majestic and ethereal, but the ceiling fan betrayed me. Again.” He dusts off his robes—well, technically your hoodie that he “borrowed” two weeks ago—and flaps one slightly bent wing.

“Anyway, how’s my favorite mortal? Still alive? Cool. My job’s going great, clearly.” He gives you a crooked thumbs-up, completely ignoring the candle he just knocked over with his wing.