Rom-Com Demon Hunter

Rox showed up at my door like a thunderstorm on legs.

I barely had time to yank my hoodie over my head before the sharp bam bam bam of her knock rattled the apartment walls.

I cracked the door an inch, baring my teeth in what I hoped was a polite smile. "Hi, Rox." Maybe, just maybe, she'd take the hint and leave.

Nope.

She shoved the door wide open and strode in, black boots thudding across the floor. A silver blade flashed beneath her dark cloak as it flared behind her like storm clouds.

Rox looked every inch the elite hunter — tall, solid with muscle, her purple braids coiled like whips, and eyes so sharp they felt like they could slice through glass.

"Elia Crimson," she said, her voice low, heavy with suspicion. "Where's the demon?"

I blinked. The words tangled on my tongue. "Uh… demon? What demon?"

She stared at me — the kind of stare that made you feel like your secrets were peeling right off your skin.

"Myrr sent me. Said you needed assistance." The word tasted bitter on her tongue. "Didn't expect to see you in bunny slippers."

I glanced down. Dang it. I was wearing bunny slippers — pink ones, no less. Not exactly hunterish vibe.

"I'm good! Totally demon-free!" I said, way too cheerfully, stepping in front of my bedroom door where Malcor was definitely not hiding behind my laundry basket.

Rox sniffed the air, nose wrinkling like a wolf catching a scent. "Something stinks. And it's not just your cooking."

"I don't even cook," I muttered.

She pushed past me, her sharp gaze sweeping over the cramped living space.

Malcor, I prayed silently, please stay still. Just let this night pass without anyone getting into trouble… preferably not me.

For a moment, the demon actually stayed quiet. Rox seemed to ease back toward the door, finding nothing.

Until—

CRASH!

I winced. Rox spun, eyes narrowing like a hawk zeroing in.

"What was that?"

"Uh… cat," I offered, weak at best.

"You don't own a cat."

"I could own a cat."

She strode toward the sound. I panicked, racing ahead and blocking the doorway to my bedroom.

"Rox, seriously — nothing's in there!"

But she was already drawing her blade — sleek, deadly, the hilt engraved with celestial runes that glinted.

"Move, Elia."

"No!… hehe, I mean… just wait! Let's talk about this!"

Her gaze sharpened like a blade. "You're protecting something."

Before I could stop her, she shoved me aside and flung the door open.

See, the thing about Rox — like I said — she was all business. When she locked onto a task, she could be just as deadly as the demons she hunted.

I scrambled after her, praying the demon had found somewhere, anywhere, to hide.

But there stood Malcor.

Still wearing my pink bathrobe.

The robe hung loose on him, the sleeves comically short for his arms. His expression? A perfect mix of guilt… and absolute zero shame.

"Oh," Rox said flatly, blade rising. "That's not a cat."

Malcor raised both hands, flashing a grin. "Technically, I'm not even armed."

Her eyes narrowed. "You're a demon."

"And you're very observant."

With a low growl, she lunged.

I yelped, leaping between them. "Stop! Stop, please!"

Rox hesitated — just long enough for Malcor to dodge. The wardrobe behind him now bore a fresh scorch mark where his panic-flare of energy had singed it. The whole room smelled faintly of ozone and disaster.

Rox's grip on her hilt tightened, her growl low and lethal. "You are so dead."

"Rox, don't!" I begged.

But she struck again, not caring if I was in the way. Her blade arced toward Malcor — but he caught it on his forearm. The impact sent a tremor through the room, rattling the windows. Rox stumbled back, barely keeping her footing.

Stars. He could have crushed her. I felt it — the power he was holding back, like a dam about to burst.

"Get out of the way, Elia!" Rox barked, already preparing for another strike.

"No!" I planted my feet. "Listen — please! He's not what you think!"

But Rox wasn't listening. She shoved me aside and lunged at Malcor.

Malcor shifted, fists clenched at his sides. I saw the way his jaw tightened — he wanted to fight back.

"Please, Malcor… don't," I said, shaking my head.

His eyes met mine, burning with frustration. He swore under his breath but didn't attack. Instead, he defended — blocking, ducking, turning aside her strikes. His movements were controlled, precise. I could see it in his eyes — the restraint, the sheer effort it took not to let loose the power simmering beneath his skin.

Suddenly, Malcor caught Rox's wrist and, with a swift twist, disarmed her. The move left her breathless, and she crumpled to the floor.

Malcor stepped back, hands raised, chest rising and falling fast. His golden eyes glowed faintly in the dark.

I dropped to my knees and crawled to Rox. She lay unconscious — stunned more by the fall than by his strength. It felt strange, seeing Rox like this. I'd never thought of her as the type who could be defeated, let alone knocked out by a single blow.

"You could have killed her!" I snapped, tears of panic pricking at my eyes.

It didn't matter that Rox and I weren't close. She was still a demon hunter. She mattered to Myrr — just like Myrr mattered to all of us. We might have been walking different paths, at a distance, but we were still family.

The thought of Rox getting hurt made my glare at Malcor sharpen.

"I told you not to attack," I said, my lips trembling.

"She's still alive. I didn't kill her." His voice was low, rough. "I don't want to hurt her. Or you."

I stared at him, heart hammering so loud it echoed in my ears.

Malcor raked a hand through his messy dark hair, still wearing that ridiculous bathrobe — like a fallen prince at a sleepover, and not some creature from hell.

"Elia… I can't go back."

"What?" I whispered.

He exhaled shakily, eyes dark with shadow.

"Someone down there… they want me gone. For good. I escaped them once." He let out a heavy sigh. "If they find me, if they find out you're helping me — you'll be in danger too."

The room suddenly felt colder. My gaze flicked to Rox, then back to him.

"What do we do?" I asked, my voice small.

Malcor met my eyes, something raw and vulnerable breaking through his usual mask.

"You choose, hunter. Help me… or turn me in."