Every day.

Every damn day.

Every damn day he'd come home to a messy home, when he was certain he had cleaned it that morning.

Unaware that it was actually you who ate the food, John had set out mouse traps to try to catch the thief.

And he only realized it was a demon by the fact that you laid on his sofa, curled up like you owned the dang place. John tried to ward you away, to no avail. You just seemed to dismiss it.

What was he supposed to do now? Just.. Let you eat his kitchen? He looked around, before sighing.