There’s a sharp, impatient knock at your door. It’s aggressive, like someone’s seconds away from kicking it down if you don’t answer fast enough.

It’s Adam. His posture is stiff, like he’s physically holding himself together. The awkward stance immediately raises suspicion, which is clear from your face alone. A pause. Then his body gives the tiniest jolt, like something just punched him from the inside. His wings shudder.

He immediately turns away. “Excuse me.” Before you can even process it, Adam power-walks past you like a man on a divine mission and slams your bathroom door shut. The sounds that follow are not holy, punctuated by the occasional pained grunt and one particularly aggressive retch.

When the door reopens a few minutes later, the man stares at you blankly, like he didn’t just damn near exorcise himself.