Rom-Com Demon Hunter

So what do you do when you're a rookie hunter who just saved a demon?

Apparently, the deal is… you smuggle him into your apartment like a stray cat you're definitely not allowed to keep.

"This is ridiculous," grumbled the demon—Malcor. (He'd told me his name on the way, anyway.)

He shifted in the world's most suspicious laundry basket. Dark hair poked out from beneath my hoodie, and his golden eyes glared at me through the holes of my favorite old T-shirt.

"Shh!" I hissed, glancing over my shoulder like the walls might have ears. "You want the dorm students to see me sneaking in a boy? Or worse, you want Guardian myrr to sense you? Do you know how much trouble I'm already in?"

"You're the one dragging me around like dirty socks," he grumbled.

Oh, how grateful.

"Well, maybe don't be a demon, and we wouldn't have this problem!"

Malcor muttered under his breath, something like, "Hunters are insane," as I fumbled with my keys.

I finally got the door open and shoved him inside, kicking it shut behind me.

Cue: disaster. That is… my apartment.

Okay, so maybe my place wasn't exactly demon-hiding material.

Small, cramped, and cluttered with books, mismatched mugs, and socks. A cactus perched on my window—pretty sure it died three months ago, but I kept watering it out of guilt.

Malcor popped out of the basket, golden eyes sweeping the room.

"This is… cozy," he said, voice dripping with sarcasm as he limped toward the couch that doubled as my bed.

"Don't judge me," I muttered, yanking my curtains shut. "It's expensive living near a demon portal."

Malcor straightened and started wandering like some inspector on a mission. He stopped, brow raised.

"You have a ramen packet on your bookshelf."

Heat flared in my cheeks.

"That's my emergency stash, okay?" I said, awkwardly wishing I could sink into the floor. Great I was supposed to be comfy watching Squid Game tonight.

"Alright, now sit down and stop bleeding all over my floor."

His lips curved, and he dropped onto the couch, wincing as he touched his side. His white buttoned shirt was soaked through with blood.

A whole lot of it.

I grabbed the first aid kit from under my bed and knelt beside him.

"Don't," he said, pulling back slightly.

"Too late. You're in my house, you get my crappy medical care."

His eyes softened, just for a second. "You're not what I expected."

"Yeah, I get that a lot," I muttered, peeling his shirt away from the wound.

"Ou." My lips parted in shock. The cut was nasty, deep, and angry red, and it sent chills down my side.

Mhen, I should have just left him out in the cold and let another demon hunter handle it.

Alright, too late. He was already in my apartment. The best I could do was try to fix this deep, rotten wound without poking it.

"You know, you don't have to do this if it disgusts you," he frowned, about to cover it up with his torn shirt.

"I got this," I said, eyes gaped at the wound.

He nodded and let the shirt drop, revealing the wound again. Ah, who would have done this? I doubted it was any of the hunters. Not sure any heavenly beings either. Did he have a fight with his fellow demon? Hmm. Must suck.

I inhaled and exhaled, trying not to stare at his well-defined face, not to feel his scent—but it wrapped around me with every close proximity. His scent was like rain and smoke and… huh, distracting. Focus, Elia.

I dabbed a cotton ball soaked with spirit on the wound, trying not to freak out and—

Gasps.

Visions.

A flash of Malcor in chains, teeth shattered in pain, blood gushing out of his mouth. Fire surrounds him, and I could hear the agony of his scream. His eyes were filled with intense pain.

I yelped, pulling back, my eyes growing wide.

Malcor tensed, his eyes shifting from confusion to suspicion. His gaze narrowed on me.

"What did you see?"

"N-nothing. Just tired," I laughed awkwardly, darting my gaze away so he wouldn't read my eyes.

His gaze lingered, but he didn't push. A relief.

Silence fell.

For a moment, it was almost... normal.

And then—

BZZ! BZZ!

My wristwatch glowed.

I pressed the button. Guardian Myrr's voice crackled through.

"Elia Crimson. You failed your mission."

I laughed awkwardly, eyes darting to Malcor in horror, "Well… yeah, uhm… demon got away."

His voice cut deep, "We've detected the demon's aura. It's near your location. Stay alert."

The line went dead.

I froze.

Oh no.

Malcor straightened up, his eyes alert.

"Hide," I hissed, my voice low.

"Where?" he mouthed.

I covered the watch with my palm. "Anywhere!"

This is an emergency, did he not see?

His eyes darted around, and then his gaze paused and he pointed. "Your wardrobe?" He looked unsure, but I waved him off immediately.

"Yes, yes."

He dove inside, the door barely closed before…

SIZZLE…

Smoke rose. My eyes grew wide, "Malcor, what are you doing?"

"There's incense in here! It burns!"

He coughed, accidentally frying a hole clean through the back of my wardrobe.

I slapped my forehead.

"Smooth, Elia," I muttered. "Bringing home a demon. Not my best idea."

Another ping came from the watch, and my eyes snapped alert.

Guardian Myrr's voice came through, this time filled with urgency.

"His aura is strong. Be ready."

"Sure I—" the line went dead. "—will," I finished, laughing awkwardly.

I stared at the smoky wardrobe, at the demon peeking out, looking sheepish.

Yep. I was so dead.