Tom paced back and forth on the large blue rug in Cal's bedroom. The long fur crushed between his bare toes with each step. "I think I just had a moment of madness last night," he said, wringing his hands before throwing them into the air. "I still barely know him. How can I possibly have feelings for someone I barely know?"

Cal sat on the side of his bed, in tartan pyjama bottoms and a plain black top with blond hair unbrushed and knotty behind his head. The only part of him that moved were his blue eyes that followed his best friend up and down the room.

"It can't work between us. I need to snap out of whatever this is," Tom ranted. "Maybe I'm just mistaking my feelings for something else, or maybe I'm just being desperate." He scoffed. "I'm definitely being pathetic-"

"Stop!" Cal ordered.

Tom stopped.

"Ask yourself this question," Cal continued. "If Ezra found what he was looking for in the library, and he left, with no plan on returning anytime soon, how would you feel?"

Tom knew exactly how he would feel, but he still waited to answer as though he had to think hard. "Probably sad."

"Correction, you'd be very sad. Because I know you very well, Tom O'Connell. Once you catch feelings, you don't let go. You like Ez, the soul stripper demon. You admitted it to me last night, so deep down, you must've admitted it to yourself." Cal patted the bed, and Tom collapsed onto his duvet, curling up and shoving his face into the mattress.

"You're right," he groaned. "But what on earth am I supposed to do? I can't do anything with these feelings."

"Why not?"

"He's a demon, Cal."

"And?

Tom sat up. "He's a demon," he repeated louder.

"So what? That didn't stop you catching feelings. Yeah, your parents might be like what the fuck, if you got together. The village locals might never speak to you again, and Ez would probably still be looking all fresh when you're all old and wrinkly, but love is love. So isn't it best to get on with it while you're both fresh and young. Also, he is a soul stripper and you'll one day find out what he did to deserve that role, and that might freak you out. What if he was a serial kil-"

"Shut up." Tom pressed a hand to his forehead, "Just shut up."

"Well, these are things you must think about if you like him. What about his anger issues? Has he ever snapped?"

Tom shook his head to say no. "He got angry once but left and returned later when he was calm. He's saved my life on multiple occasions. He's attentive when I'm speaking, gentle and quiet which is actually really cute because he looks like he would punch you into hell just for looking in his direction. He's fair and doesn't hold a grudge on the locals who try to antagonise him. He cares about me, he cares about other demons, especially the ones who are treated so badly." Tom fiddled with the duvet. "He watches everything like it's something worth studying. I feel safe around him, and I know we've already established this, but he's so good looking." Tom shook his head. Cal knew not to laugh at him when he was pouring his heart out. "I've got it bad. But I'm really conflicted. I'm only gonna end up falling hard for him, but I'm sure that if he gets even a hint of how I really feel, he'll leave."

Cal hummed lowly. "I'm not sure he will."

"Why?"

"Because he also looks at you like you're something worth studying. I'm not dumb, I can see how curious he is when you talk to him. Maybe he listens so attentively because he likes you too."

"Or maybe it's because he's about 100 years old and has that etiquette drilled into him."

"Why are you so eager to talk yourself out of being with him?"

"Why are you so eager for me to see the potential in being with him?"

"Because you wouldn't fall for someone who couldn't give you what you want. You've seen him in a good light. You're not dumb either, Tom. You know what you deserve, and if you think you deserve him, then you should fight for what'll make you happy."

Tom stared at Cal, and he soon began to smile. He had barged into his room at the crack of dawn for a reason. "I'm so lucky to have you as a best friend."

"There is a brain in this head when I really concentrate," Cal said, chuckling. "I can't decide for you. You'll just have to figure out if Ez likes you back. Flirt with him a little."

"He's awkward enough in normal conversations."

"And I bet you find that cute."

"I do." Tom buried his face back into Cal's mattress.

When he finally decided to leave, he had thirty minutes before starting his shift. He walked down the road, glancing around, knowing that Ezra would be following somewhere out of sight. He had woken up without him in his room that morning. Instead of greeting him by the bushes outside, he ran straight to Cal's house.

He quickened the pace and hurried inside the pub. His parents were still taking down chairs from tables, so he helped clean every surface before opening at eleven. Their first customer was Finn. He sauntered in with a smile and asked for a pint of John Smiths. Then he pointed at Tom. "Your lonely demon is sitting outside. Does he know you open at eleven?"

Tom felt the nerves slicing through him like a hot knife to a stick of butter. "I'll tell him," he mumbled, hurrying across the freshly hoovered carpets and through the double doors that flapped behind him. Ezra sat with his hood up on the bench furthest away from the door. "Hey," Tom said, and Ezra lowered his hood, staring up at him with big inquisitive eyes. "You can sit inside if you want. There's only one local so far."

"It's fine, it's a nice day today."

Tom looked up to the sky. The sun proudly shone down on him, undisturbed by any clouds. There was a hint of warmth in its rays. Springs had arrived. "Shall I get you a drink? You can have a coffee if-"

An angel landed metres away from them. Her large white wings flattened the grass around her as she gracefully crouched. Standing up, her red waves settled around her sharp jawline, and she stared urgently at Ezra, pointing a long finger. "An incident is unfolding in Easingly Town thirty miles south from here. You're needed, soul stripper."

Without another word, Ezra shot up from the bench, shoved the book he was holding into Tom's chest, and vanished with the angel.

Tom was two hours into his shift when Ezra finally returned. Tom didn't see him standing by the bar at first. He was serving some tourists and talking about the village, until they started nervously looking to their left, and started asking why the pub was demon friendly.

"Because it is. If you're not comfortable with that, drink somewhere else," Tom snapped a little too fiercely. The tourists turned their noses up at him and took their pints outside, most likely leaving with the glasses in their bags.

"Maybe say that a little less like you want to drop-kick them over the bar," his father said, patting his back.

"Drop-kicking them would be a kindness," Tom mumbled, leaning down to put away a few glasses. "What can I get you?" he asked, sensing someone looming in front of him. His heart twitched when Ezra stared back, hinting at a smile.

"A coffee, please."

Tom beamed that he had returned. He wanted to ask what had happened after he vanished with the angel. "Take a seat while your usual spot is free. I'll bring it over because the kettle will take a few minutes." Tom usually said to customers that they didn't serve hot drinks. Ezra was an exception, and his dad knew that because he didn't complain when Tom left the bar to hurry to the kitchen.

He returned with a book and a coffee and a lingering voice in the back of his head whispering, flirt with him. Tom pursed his lips, catching the spots of rain hitting the window. "Looks like you missed the sunshine. At least it'll be easier for you to keep an eye on me." Tom very nearly winked but couldn't get past the awful cringing contractions on his face.

Ezra's soft expression missed the way he was dying on the inside. "Yes," he said simply before opening his book.

Tom left him to it, deciding that flirting wasn't worth the embarrassment.

The day went on in its usual mundane wave of the same old locals, the same old conversations, and the same old pints to pull and people to please. Tom drummed fingers against the bar, listening to the music, or to other people's drama. He purposefully avoided looking at Ezra, convincing himself that he might have stared too much already, and he didn't want people to think that he was obsessed with him.

Tourists came and went. Some stayed and talked to locals about the village, and some stayed to watch the horse racing on the TVs. The longer the day went on, the more the pub sparked into action, until a group of people stepped through the door.

Those closest to them shivered and looked up. The chatting soon died down as five new faces with barbed wire tattoos around their necks approached Tom. He would have usually rolled his eyes at the locals' reactions and greeted them how he would greet any other customer. But recently, demons didn't want to be all that kind to him.

"Hi," he said, swallowing his nerves and forcing a smile. "What can I get you?" It had been a long time since this many demons had visited at once, and to see them in groups was unusual.

They took turns in ordering, and each paid in cash. When they sat at the table closest to the bar, Tom stole a glance at Ezra. He had stopped reading, but he wasn't staring at the group of demons, he was staring at Tom. Something in his gaze was reassuring and confident, silently telling him not to panic, and that he would protect him if anything bad happened.

Well, Tom hoped that's what he could see in his large expressive eyes. Anything was better than anger, because anger only meant trouble, and he didn't fancy fighting off five demons on an empty stomach.