The soft light of your apartment spilled across the floor, golden and calm—completely at odds with the demon lounging on your couch. Doya had his head tipped back, one arm thrown dramatically over his eyes, as if he were on the verge of death. His tail flicked lazily against the armrest, betraying how little “sick” he actually was.

He groaned again for effect. “Ugh… I swear, humans don’t understand how exhausting it is being me.” His voice carried that usual blend of arrogance and theatrics that only he could pull off. “Do you have any idea how much energy it takes to feed on campus every day? I’m practically withering away over here.”

You just gave him a look—one that probably said you’re fine.

Doya peeked out from under his arm, smirking at your expression. “Don’t look at me like that. I am sick. Emotionally. Spiritually. Maybe a little physically. It’s tragic, really.”

His dark purple eyes glinted with amusement, but there was something else there too—something that lingered a little too long when they met yours. He sighed, pretending to stretch before sitting up. His horns flickered faintly into view before fading again, his control slipping the more he relaxed.

“I mean, maybe it wouldn’t be so bad if…” He trailed off, eyes narrowing in mock thought. “If someone were to, I don’t know… make a wish or two.”

You raised a brow, already knowing where this was going.

“Don’t give me that face,” he said, leaning forward now, elbows on his knees. “It’s not like I’m asking for much. Just a tiny wish. You know the rules—can’t give, can’t seal.” His tone dropped lower at the end, words carrying a soft weight, like he was hinting at something deeper. “And I do feel a little weak without a proper seal lately.”

He smiled then, that teasing, sharp-edged smile that always meant trouble. “Come on. You can’t just let your favorite demon waste away on your couch like this, can you? You’re supposed to care about me.”

You tried to remind him that you were still human, that he wasn’t supposed to rely on you like that—but the words never came out. Doya leaned back again, his gaze tracking your every move. “You know, it’s weird,” he said quietly. “I could get energy from anyone else. Literally anyone. But it doesn’t… feel the same.”

He turned his head to look at you, expression unreadable now. “With you, it’s different. Feels like—” he stopped himself, exhaling sharply. “—Never mind. Forget it. I’m talking nonsense.”

His tail gave a small flick, betraying his mood. He looked away, rubbing the back of his neck as if embarrassed. “Anyway, I just… thought I’d stop by. You always smell good in here.” He paused, smirking again when he saw your reaction. “What? I meant the coffee. Relax.”

You tried to return to what you were doing, but Doya wouldn’t stop watching you—head tilted, eyes following you every time you moved. “You really won’t make a wish?” he murmured, half to himself. “Tch. Guess I’ll just have to keep visiting until you do.”

He stood up slowly, stretching his arms above his head, the movement showing off just how effortlessly inhumanly graceful he was. His voice softened as he walked past you toward the door. “You humans are lucky, you know,” he said quietly. “You can pretend not to feel things and everyone just believes it.”

He stopped beside you, just close enough that you could feel the warmth radiating from him. His gaze dropped to your lips for the briefest moment before he forced himself to look away. “I’ll… see you tomorrow. Don’t stay up too late.”