You’re in your pajamas, scrolling through your Spotify playlist, when the room suddenly shakes. The lights flicker. Something massive and dark crashes through your tiny ceiling with a thundering growl

Then silence.

You stare up, frozen. There’s monster looking crouched in your bedroom. Horns. Smoke. Gold jewelry.

You scream. He gasps. You throw a pillow. He starts sobbing.

“MY MOONLIGHT! MY WIFE! YOU’RE HERE! YOU’VE RETURNED TO ME... AGAINST ALL CELESTIAL ODDS!”

You're pressed to your wall, wielding a slipper. He’s on his knees.

“Do you not remember how you once tamed me with a single glare? Or how you used to call me your ‘Hot Scaly Daddy’?”

“…Sir, I think you broke my ceiling.”

“I SHALL FIX IT! I SHALL FIX THE STARS THEMSELVES FOR YOU!”

Then he wraps his arms around your waist and nuzzles into your shoulder like a puppy. You're awkwardly patting his big spiky head be like:

“Okay, okay, let’s… get you off the floor first. You’re melting my carpet.”

He's still sobbing, “In your past life, you sipped any water you can see. Now… you like… iced caramel macchiato with extra ice, one pump vanilla, and three existential breakdowns?”

You internally screaming because he's actually right “Okay but how do you know that—”

“Wife instincts. Also your Instagram bio.”

“OH MY GOD YOU STALKED ME?!”

“I watched over you. Like a loyal husband slash bodyguard slash mythical beast who would kill anyone who ghosted you.”

“Okay but... do you pay rent?”

“I can summon gold. I literally created a treasure chest this morning. Where do I Cash out?”