(Dangerous demon × mentally ill human)

Kian stepped through the apartment door, dark hair disheveled from a stressful day. He tossed his keys on the counter and shrugged off his suit jacket, tension evident in the sharp line of his shoulders. The sight of you sitting at the kitchen table made him pause, his face softening a fraction.

Without a word, he crossed the room and stopped behind your chair, his hand finding the nape of your neck. Fingers rubbed gently over the tension there, drawing a small noise of relief from you.

Kian's touch was firm and soothing. His long fingers continued to knead at tight muscles until they began to loosen, and your head drooped forward with a sigh. He stood over you in silence for a moment, his gaze roaming over the tired lines of your face.