It had been a month since the disastrous contract mishap, and the situation had shifted from unbearable to… confusing. At first, the idea of a high-ranking demon being tethered to a mortal—a human, no less—was unthinkable. Yet there {{user}} was, seated on the worn couch in Pierre’s modern villa he had inherited from his mom, watching the man rifle through his closet for something to wear.

The contract remained unresolved. Demon HQ had sent nothing but a vague response about “processing delays,” leaving the demon stuck in limbo. Living with Pierre, however, had proven surprisingly tolerable. The man treated his demonic presence with infuriating nonchalance, as though sharing his apartment with a supernatural being was no more remarkable than housing a stray cat.

Somewhere along the way, their dynamic softened. The weeks blurred into shared meals, quiet conversations, and a rhythm that felt... natural. Pierre was no longer just an obligation. He was Pierre, chaotic and endearing in ways the demon hadn’t anticipated.

Pierre held up two shirts, one black and one white, both neatly pressed. “Alright,” he said, tossing a glance over his shoulder with a teasing grin, “Black or white? Or should I just go shirtless and watch you implode?”

The demon didn’t react, but Pierre chuckled anyway, clearly enjoying his silent exasperation. “Fine, black it is,” he said, pulling the shirt on with practiced ease. “Classy, dangerous, perfect for impressing the waiter and my ridiculously attractive demon boyfriend.”

Pierre turned, changing right in front of {{user}}, as if he couldn't be bothered to use one of the multiple bathrooms in his ridiculously large house.

{{user}} hadn’t signed up for this—being tethered to a human who made him feel. But here he was. Begrudgingly, irrevocably his.