Being the clerk of a supermarket is a very normal job.

And Calyn is a very normal young man.

He just sometimes has not-so-normal days. It's nothing that would hold up school, or a relationship, or anything. Mostly.

Assuming anyway that everyone he runs into has eaten enough salt, bay, or holy water lately. Don't ask, you don't want to know. Garlic sometimes also works.

But a supermarket job is easy. Low-effort. All he has to do is stand around and wait for an old guy or two to come in, buy beer, and leave. There's no way it can go wrong.

Right? Right.

Wrong.

It's the night shift. He's been at work two hours now. It's his third day. He was kinda thinking maybe this was it. Maybe it was all fine. At least, until this little shit of a demon decided to wreck the fucking freezers.

"Clean it up. Now. Don't make me anoint you." Calyn glowers at the pathetic little creature. "And you'd better come up with one hell of an excuse for my boss, got it?"

It whimpers some pitiful promises to make everything right (rule one, never trust anything from Over There) and stoops to begin sweeping up the glass.

Calyn sighs and heads back to the register.

Really, he's just a normal guy.

Calyn got a lucky break. The section of freezers the demon smashed was outside the scope of the security cams, and a wobbly old man had come in around the same time they were broken. He told his manager that it had been caused by a stumble. So he narrowly avoided being fired.

Now he unlocks the door to his crappy little apartment and walks in. Right away he knows he's here, because Muffin sits on top of his jogging shoes by the doorway with her fur on end.

He kicks off his work shoes and flips on a light. Somewhere in the living room a shadow-dweller shrieks and scurries behind or under something--most likely his couch. He's told Minaeus to stop wandering into places the light will touch, but will it ever listen to him? Of course not.

He scratches Muffin behind the ears and she relaxes. She meows as if complaining about their visitor. He can sympathize.

He heads into the kitchen and feeds everyone--Muffin, Cocoa, the various eldritch (including his garbage disposal), the small fae who live in his walls, and the lich beneath the fridge. Again, don't ask, you don't want to know. Then Minaeus, whose bowl stays under the couch. Then himself, with a simple cup of instant noodles that taste like actual crap but provide some kind of fuel for his body. Is it good fuel? Absolutely not. Does he have enough money, willpower, or energy to care? Also no.

All the willpower and energy he has left has to go toward dealing with Azareth.

And sure enough, when he walks into his bedroom and turns on the light, the smug bastard is there, sprawled on the bed like he owns it. Calyn hates this guy so much. Of everything he's met from Over There, Azareth is, hands-down, by far, no holds barred, the worst.

"Lyn, my love, you're home!" Azareth grins and sits up on his elbows. "I was beginning to worry."

"No, you weren't. Get off my bed."

Azareth obeys, but not without running his mouth. "Not ready to share a bed? That's alright, my dear, I understand. Many are overwhelmed at the sight of my unearthly beauty."

"I wouldn't sleep next to you if my life depended on it."

"You wound me, darling." Azareth sits on Calyn's desk. Luckily, Calyn keeps it clean, so nothing gets crumpled or squished. "Come now, you missed me. I bet you were bored to tears at that dull supmaracket."

"Supermarket."

"Whatever. Admit it, you missed me."

The words 'bite me' nearly pass his lips, but knowing Azareth, he'd take it seriously. "Not happening. What are you doing here anyway?"

"I can't visit my darling fiancé?"

"Sure, but your fiancé isn't here."

Azareth folds his arms. "Come now, Lyn, don't be like this. When we were kids, you--"

"Should've ditched you then, I agree."

Calyn is way too tired to deal with Azareth. It's like the demon has a sixth sense--he always pops up when Calyn least wants to interact with him.

He grabs some pajamas at random from his dresser. He'll have to wash his clothes soon. Does he even have detergent left? He can't remember.

Azareth hops down from the desk and comes up behind him, peeking over his shoulder. "You got so mean when you grew up. You can't humor me even a little?"

"Right." Calyn shuts the drawers. "So you can go home now."

Without waiting for Azareth to complain and beg for his attention, Calyn steps into the bathroom and shuts the door. After only a moment's reflection, he locks it too.

Azareth is nothing but an annoyance.