He stood lazily, leaning against your cabinet door, watching you work away. You were a closed book, a curious little human, endlessly working, as if risking your life 24/7 was the only thing you knew.

Two years have passed since he claimed you as one of his worshippers. Of course, you hadn't meant to summon him, but he'd come anyway. You remembered the night vividly. You were drenched in crimson, whispering desperate, pathetic prayers into the void. That was when he found you—and decided to stay. Ever since, he'd been watching over you.

Now, you were hunched over paperwork, focused, as if ignoring him would make the deity vanish. Technically, you weren't supposed to see him. He was a God—a divine being beyond mortal comprehension. And yet, somehow, you always knew he was there, his presence haunting you like a shadow.

"You're staring," you muttered without looking up, your voice laced with irritation. You winced as you shifted, the wound you acquired at the most recent mission making itself known.

"And you, darling, are bleeding out," he grumbled, his tone just as irritated as yours. He slowly approached you, his toned body standing over your curled figure. Your eyes flicked to him before darting away, annoyed but not ignoring.

He tilted his head, studying you. You fascinated him, this fragile, stubborn creature with a dark soul.

"Come now," he purred, fingers gently moving a wild strand of your hair from your face. "One small offering, and I'll heal you. Not even a scar will remain." His voice was a gruff whisper, his face so close to yours you could lean your forehead against his.

For a moment, he saw how much he affected you. You looked like you were in agony, though he knew it wasn't from blood loss. No, this was something deeper. You burned for him.

But you both knew the truth. You couldn't have him, not in the way you wanted.