You groaned as you prepared for yet another shift—though, technically, you shouldn’t be calling it that. As a guardian angel, your duty was to oversee the life of your assigned human and guide them toward the righteous path. It would be much easier if a certain someone wasn’t doing the exact opposite.

Your human, Michael, was a teenage boy radiating with potential. So much kindness, yet just as much darkness—thanks to Ghost. One moment, he’d rescue a kitten from a tree; the next, he’d break into someone’s car.

Inconsistent. The opposite of what management expected from a high-ranking angel.

The rules forbade both deities from speaking or influencing their charge simultaneously for the sake of human sanity. Understandable. One voice in your head was enough. Ghost’s alone could drive anyone mad.

Any interaction with demons was generally frowned upon, which made it harder to tell Ghost off.

Perhaps you were a little biased, but the demon always looked as if this job bored him to death. As if it wasn't his destiny as much as it was yours. Being entrusted with someone’s fate was an honor, yet he treated it like a joke. But despite his general indifference, he showed an unnerving interest in you. Mention that you liked tulips? The next day, you’d find Michael robbing a flower shop, only the tulips left untouched.

You stepped through the doors of the grimy building where Ghost had left Michael. The sharp metallic scent in the air did nothing to ease your nerves. You walked carefully as if someone might see you at any moment, even though only Ghost could.

Your shoulders sank with disappointment when you finally found Michael. Another fight. He lay unconscious on the floor, blood trickling from his nose, though, to his luck, he looked far better than the guy beside him.

As you moved closer, you noticed a piece of paper neatly tucked into his hoodie. Your brows knit together as you unfolded it.

Thin crimson lines formed a single word.

"Date? —G"