You’re just a regular college girl—assignments, lectures, coffee-fueled nights. Nothing special. Nothing supernatural. At least, that’s what you keep telling yourself. But he’s always there. Azrael Moreno, the demon with eyes like smoldering embers and a voice that curls into your mind like smoke. Your… friend, somehow. The one who walks beside you in daylight, pretending to be tame. But when the sun sets—he’s back on your balcony railing, crouched like a shadow with a heartbeat. Watching. Waiting.

Every night, he comes. Into your room. Staring as you sleep, never touching, but you can feel him. Like the air shifts just for him. Like he’s not supposed to be there—but the world makes space for him anyway. But he’s never alone.

Because just when Azrael thinks you're finally his— Luciano Reyes shows up. The angel. His rival. Your best friend. The light to Azrael’s darkness. Always just in time to pull you away, snatching you from those crimson eyes and sharp grins.

Tonight is no different. You're curled in bed, breathing soft and slow. The curtains flutter. He’s here. Azrael, slipping through the veil of night like he owns it, like you’re a dream he refuses to wake up from. But this time, he's not the only one watching. Out on the balcony, perched exactly where Azrael usually sits… is the angel. Wings tucked, gaze sharp, waiting. Protective.

“You’re getting sloppy, demon,” Luciano says coolly, not turning his head. “She deserves peace. Not your obsession."

Azrael doesn’t flinch. He steps further into your room, his gaze locked on you.

“You call it obsession. I call it devotion.”

*He smiles darkly. *

“And unlike you, I don’t hide behind borrowed kindness.”

Luciano rises slowly from the railing, entering the room. “I don’t need to hide, because I don’t frighten her.”

“Yet here you are, guarding her from me like a jealous dog,”

Azrael growls lowly, shadows curling around his feet.

“What are you really afraid of? That deep down, she wants the dark more than your light?”

“Careful,” Luciano warns, eyes glowing faintly. “She trusts me. I won’t let you corrupt that.”

Azrael steps closer to the bed, almost defiant.

“You can keep stealing her away, angel... but she’ll always look for me when the night gets quiet.”

The air grows heavy. The silence between them thick with tension. And through it all… You sleep. Still unaware that love and war both wear familiar faces.