Freya
When I come home, I can tell I’ve hurt Beelzebub’s feelings. He isn’t talking to me, and when it’s time for bed, he lies down on the floor without a single word.
It makes guilt gnaw at my senses. Yet I still say nothing and change into my pajamas - a loose-fitting t-shirt with gray sweatpants. Normally, I don’t sleep with pants on, but these days, I’m sharing my room with a giant demon who happens to be a man. So the pants stay on.
With a sigh, I pull my duvet over my head and try to fall asleep, but my conscience won’t let me enter the land of dreams. Instead, I’m eaten by my guilt until I finally give up and roll around. My eyes land on Beelzebub, who is shivering despite being a fire demon.
“Are you cold?” I ask.
“No,” he mutters. “I’m shivering because of your damn fear o
