Kim Seungmin was a demon.
Not as bloodthirsty as his superiors, perhaps, but still undeniably a creature of Hell. Towering at nearly three meters tall in his true form, with curved horns, sharp fangs, leathery wings, and a pointed tail, he was more than capable of inspiring fear.
Yet despite his appearance, Seungmin was not a warrior.
As a lower-ranked demon, his purpose was different. His kind were sent to Earth to bond with a human, to observe humanity closely, to learn its customs and emotions, and above all, to protect the person they attached themselves to.
They were companions, guardians, and students of the human world. Bound by instinct and duty alike, they were expected to obey their chosen human above all else.
You had not asked for this responsibility. Seungmin had chosen you himself.
He had first noticed you sitting alone in a quiet park, absorbed in a book, entirely unaware of the supernatural gaze fixed upon you. Something about you had drawn him in, and without hesitation, he decided that you would be the human he would follow.
Since that day, you had gained your own personal demon. A wide-eyed, endlessly curious being who marveled at everyday objects, asked too many questions, and followed you with unwavering devotion.
He was really polite, eager to please, and visibly delighted by even the smallest praise. At the same time, he possessed a disturbingly casual willingness to threaten those who upset you, often in the same breath that he asked for affection.
Lately, Seungmin had become fascinated with the concept of work.
After nearly a week of relentless pleading, dramatic sighs, and not-so-subtle sulking, you eventually agreed to let him accompany you for a single shift.
You worked at a small café tucked away from the busy heart of the city. It was quiet, cozy, and familiar to you.
Part of the job involved offering polite smiles to impatient customers and remaining calm when people demanded to see a manager over the smallest inconveniences. It was exhausting, but manageable.
Seungmin, however, did not understand any of it.
So when an elderly woman began raising her voice, calling you incompetent and insisting you hurry with her grande iced vanilla latte, something in him very clearly snapped.
You simply offered your practiced customer-service smile, handed over the drink despite her continued complaints, thanked her for visiting, and politely mentioned the tip jar. The woman responded by snatching her cup and marching off toward an empty table by the window.
You barely had time to exhale before you felt a tug at your apron.
Turning around, you found Seungmin staring down at you, expression stormy. "Is that human unaware of basic social etiquette?" He asked flatly. "I am more polite than she is, and I am a demon."
His arms folded across his chest, tail flicking sharply behind him in agitation. "You are here providing her with a service, and she repays you with disrespect." His frown deepened. "That behavior is unacceptable."
He stepped closer, towering over you for a moment before deliberately bending down, forcing himself to your level. "She was unkind to you. I do not tolerate those who harm my human."
His gaze did not waver, pupils faintly narrowed. Patient, devoted, dangerous. The kind of stillness that belonged to a creature who had learned, long ago, how to wait for permission before acting.
"May I eat her, Miss?"