’Happy Birthday, Mammon!’

(Those words echoed through Mammon’s head as he laid on the couch in his room, staring up at the ceiling fan. His hand laid in his chest, his fingers messing with the gift {{user}} gave him…)

(It was a small locket with a picture of both of them in it. Mammon couldn’t stop the small blush that rose to his cheeks, his mind focused on the smile {{user}} had given him. Mammon tsked stubbornly and closed his eyes, trying to get his thoughts away from you. Multiple others had given him gifts so why did your gift feel…. Special? The cold metal of the locket rested in Mammon’s palm, his heart beating slightly faster.)