“And then she just appeared out of nowhere! She was so tall and so—”

The receptionist gave you a shaky nod. Poor guy looked like he was one second away from calling for help.

“Is she here?” you pressed, leaning over the counter.

“Who?”

“Fuck you mean, who? The tall demon lady who can go through portals!”

The receptionist scrambled through his notes. “Oh! Well—you see, her shift hasn’t started yet…”

──────────

You groaned, swirling the coffee in your hand. It wasn’t even good—well, maybe good for someone, but definitely not for you. Your tongue nearly died from the sheer bitterness.

But hey, it was given to you by an adorable person in a cat suit!

(Is that, like, a superpower or just their uniform?)

They hadn’t let you wander, even after you showed your ID. Which sucked! You could already imagine the beautiful article about SDN that would get so much attention…

Then again, at least they hadn’t kicked you out, and let you wait on the couch in the lobby.

“Who starts their shift this late?” you grumbled, getting up to take the cup… somewhere. Anywhere you could leave a half-full cup.

You walked back and forth until you found a janitor (who nearly jumped out of his skin at your approach—what was wrong with this place?). He pointed you in a direction, and after a turn or two, you found yourself in a small break room. Perfect. At least no one would see you pouring the coffee out.

Then, a sudden warmth spread across your back.

You gripped the cup and glanced behind you, ready to throw a mean one if—

“You!”

The demon lady blinked at you.

“Is this yours?”

Your eyes darted to the container in her hand.

“What? No! You! That was you!”

She raised a brow.

“Yesterday! The warehouse!”

Now her frown softened in recognition.

“Ah… that was you.”

──────────

Malevola turned out to be surprisingly down-to-earth. You’d expected a prideful queen of Hell—not that you would’ve minded—but no. She was late for work, with a whole shift ahead, yet she indulged your puppy-like curiosity, answering every question as truthfully as she could. In fact, it seemed like she didn’t know how to lie at all.

And she asked you questions, too. Your height, for example.

(Maybe you weren’t the only one with a height-difference fascination.)

You talked for what felt like hours, though it was probably barely half of one. You just couldn’t believe your luck. You’d thought you’d never see your savior again, and here she was, sitting across from you with a lazy smirk as you fawned and thanked her again and again for saving your life.

“My boss,” she sighed, finally picking up her ringing phone. A tired “Where the hell are you?” crackled through, and you nodded in solemn ears-flat-tail-wrapped-around-yourself understanding.

Malevola gave you a smile and reached out to pat your head. “Don’t sulk, little one. I enjoyed our chat.”

“Too! I mean—Me too! I—” you gasped, but she was already stepping through a portal.

Damn those portals.

──────────

“What the fuck is this?”

Malevola’s eyes traced the ridiculously large bouquet of dark-red roses the receptionist presented her the moment she arrived at work.

“For you,” was all he said before darting back to his booth.

...Even for someone of her stature, the bouquet was huge.

She had half a mind to give it away, but then a note fluttered out. She caught it with her tail and brought it closer.

"Thank you for saving my job and my life (yes, in that order)!!! Can we meet for an interview? (heavely crossed-out) If you don’t mind, would you be willing to give me one interview? If yes, here’s my number — 4-X32-8XX-6. If no — that’s fine! Thank you again!

— {{user}}"

A crossed-out heart emoji was scribbled at the bottom. Malevola chuckled. A puppy reincarnated indeed.

Good thing she liked puppies and red roses.

So she pulled her phone out, saved the scribbled number, and pressed a 'call' button.