“Come on, Gigi! It’s just one time. I mean, how bad could it be? We’re only going to a party. You might even meet some cute girls there,” her friend says over the phone, and Gigi can’t help but roll her eyes.
“I have a shift at six a.m. I don’t think I should go. My boss will literally fire me,” she replies, her tone flat and tired.
“Come on! That jerk has always had it out for you. He’s bound to fire you anyway, so you might as well live a little. At least this way, you’ll have a good reason to get fired instead of showing up to work just for him to nitpick something dumb like, ‘Oh, you missed a spot,’” her friend says, pausing for a moment before adding, “Plus, you need a break. You’re overworking yourself.”
Gigi can’t deny it. She is overworking herself—barely scraping by to make rent, with no one left to lean on. Her family had abandoned her, and she’s been struggling to keep her head above water ever since. Maybe her friend has a point. Maybe this will be a nice escape, even if it’s just for one night. Her chest tightens as the loneliness creeps in. Maybe she will meet someone.
With a heavy sigh and a reluctant tone, she agrees. Her friend squeals with excitement, promising to pick her up for the party in two hours.
Hours slipped by in a haze. Gigi had long lost track of the number of drinks she'd had, her initial resolve to stay sober evaporating under the weight of her friend’s incessant cheerleading. The tequila burned its way through her, making her limbs feel lighter and her thoughts fuzzier. The party was a blur of loud voices, flashing lights, and strangers she didn’t care to talk to. It was the usual chaos, and she was barely hanging on.
At some point, she found herself wandering away from the main room, the noise of the party fading as she stumbled down a narrow hallway. Her boots scuffed against the floor, and the world tilted a little with every step. She wasn’t even sure why she’d walked down this way, but the weight of the alcohol seemed to make everything feel... important, even if it made no sense.
That’s when she saw it.
A small, delicate music box, sitting on a table at the end of the hallway, bathed in a dim, almost ethereal light. Gigi blinked, squinting at it as if she was seeing things. This didn’t belong here—not in a house full of people spilling drinks and shouting over each other. There was no way this thing was just part of the décor.
She took a few steps closer, her boots quiet on the floor, the pulse of the party growing distant. “Weird,” she muttered, leaning down to get a closer look at the intricate carvings on the box’s surface.
Then, the voice came.
“Play me.”
Gigi froze, heart pounding in her chest. She spun around, expecting to see someone behind her. But the hallway was empty. Completely still.
“Play me,” the voice repeated, the words soft and melodic, like they were made of something that could curl around your spine and pull you in.
For a second, Gigi’s instincts screamed to run—to get the hell out of there. But instead, the tequila in her veins decided for her. She reached forward, her fingers trembling just a bit as she lifted the lid of the music box.
The moment she did, a haunting melody filled the air, sweet and delicate, but also wrong—like something was out of place, tugging at her in ways she couldn’t explain. The tune wrapped around her like a fog, and as it did, she felt something inside of her stir.
And then, everything changed.
A burst of green light shot out of the box, forcing Gigi to stumble back, instinctively raising her arms to shield her eyes. The light burned with an intensity that made her dizzy. When it finally faded, standing in front of her, with the cold precision of a figure carved from marble, was a woman.
She was tall, impossibly beautiful in an unsettling way. Goat-like hooves clacked against the floor as the woman stepped forward, her green eyes piercing Gigi’s with an intensity that felt like it was digging into her soul. She was dressed in a sharp, green suit, her red tie slightly askew, and her white gloves gleamed like they hadn’t seen a single speck of dust in centuries. Antlers atop her sliver, green streaked hair.
“What the hell?” Gigi blurted, blinking rapidly as she tried to process the sight.
The woman didn’t even flinch at the outburst. Instead, her lips twisted into a bitter, mocking smile. “Finally,” she drawled, her voice heavy with centuries of disdain. “Two hundred and seventy-six years... And this is the mortal who frees me?”
Gigi stared at her, momentarily too stunned to speak. Then, she glanced at the music box still sitting innocently on the table. “Uh, nice costume?”
The woman’s eyes narrowed dangerously. “Costume?” she repeated with a sneer. “You think this is a joke?”
Before Gigi could answer, the woman took a step forward, her hooves echoing ominously on the floor. “I am Cecilia Immergreen, a demon of desires. And you, little gremlin, have summoned me.”
Gigi blinked at her, clearly confused, but with the alcohol making her brash, she shot back, “Gremlin? Listen, lady, I don’t know what kind of weird LARPing thing this is, but—”
“Silence,” Cecilia’s voice cut through the air like a blade. “You freed me, and now I owe you a contract. Tell me your deepest desire, and I will grant it. In return…” Her green eyes glinted with something darker. “Your soul will belong to me.”
Gigi blinked, her brain struggling to catch up with her surroundings. “A contract? Like… a magic wish?”
Cecilia sighed heavily, pinching the bridge of her nose in clear irritation. “Mortals. So predictable.” She waved her hand dismissively. “Yes. A magic wish. But I don’t have the patience to explain the intricacies of demon contracts to someone as drunk as you. Either accept my offer, or I’ll find someone else who can appreciate it.”
Gigi wavered for a moment. Her stomach churned with a sudden mix of fear and loneliness—loneliness that gnawed at her, buried under months of working herself into the ground. Something in her cracked. She swallowed the lump in her throat and muttered before she could stop herself, “I’m lonely.”
Cecilia raised an eyebrow, unimpressed. “Is that it? Lonely?”
“Yes, okay?!” Gigi snapped, her voice shaking. “I’m lonely, and I hate it! And you’re not helping!”
There was a pause, and for a moment, Gigi could have sworn that Cecilia’s gaze softened. But then, the demon extended her gloved hand, her smirk never fading. “Very well. Take my hand, and the deal is sealed.”
Without thinking, Gigi reached out, her hand meeting Cecilia’s. The moment their skin touched, pain shot through Gigi’s wrist like a bolt of lightning.
“What the hell?” Gigi yelped, yanking her hand back, but Cecilia’s grip held fast.
“Do not pull away,” Cecilia commanded in a voice that left no room for argument. A burning, sharp sensation crawled up Gigi’s wrist, and she gasped as a glowing musical note seared itself into her skin.
“Stop!” Gigi cried out, trying to break free, but the pain only intensified, until—
It stopped.
Gigi gasped for air, clutching her wrist, her vision swimming. Her skin was left with the faintest outline of the musical note—red and glowing.
“What the hell was that?!” she hissed, eyes glaring up at Cecilia.
The demon smirked, clearly pleased with herself. “Proof of our contract.”
Without another word, a faint golden chain appeared around Gigi’s neck, invisible to the eye but unmistakable in its pull. Gigi reached up, trying to tug at it, but it was like trying to grab smoke—she could feel the tug, though, a constant pressure that connected her to Cecilia.
“You mortals never learn,” Cecilia purred, tugging lightly on the chain. Gigi stumbled forward, nearly tripping over her own feet. “A deal is a deal. I will make sure you’re never lonely again. Until the end of your life.”
She paused, her eyes darkening. “And then your soul will be mine.”
Before Gigi could protest, the alcohol and exhaustion caught up with her. Her head spun, and she collapsed against Cecilia, unconscious before she could even register what had just happened.
Cecilia looked down at her with mild distaste. “Pathetic,” she muttered, effortlessly lifting Gigi in her arms as though she weighed nothing.
She turned, and with a quick snap of her fingers, the world seemed to warp around them, the golden chain still glowing faintly.
“Where do you live?” Cecilia murmured.
Gigi mumbled an address under her breath, and Cecilia shook her head with a smirk. “Mortals…” she muttered, disappearing into the night.
As the golden chain shimmered and vanished into thin air, Cecilia allowed herself a small, begrudging smile.
“You’ll regret this, little gremlin,” she whispered, her voice low and dark. “But I’ll keep my end of the deal. You won’t be lonely… for as long as you live.”
Gigi awoke with a groan, her head pounding, a strange heaviness weighing down her limbs. She squinted at the ceiling, her vision blurry and unfocused. The air smelled faintly of perfume and something else she couldn’t quite place.
She tried to move but froze when she felt the unmistakable weight of someone else in the bed beside her.
A flash of panic hit her chest, her breath catching as she realised she wasn’t alone.
She glanced down at her body, still half-wrapped in blankets. But the sensation wasn’t just from the bed—no, it was the warm, solid presence pressed against her back, their arm slung loosely across her waist.
Gigi’s heart skipped a beat as she turned her head slowly. Her gaze locked on the unfamiliar face of a woman, still fast asleep beside her.
And then it all came flooding back. The music box. The demon. The deal. Cecilia.
Wait—Cecilia?
She almost choked on her own breath.
Gigi blinked, staring at the stranger beside her in disbelief. The person’s silver hair, streaked with green, hung loosely around her shoulders. And the antlers—antlers—on her head only confirmed one thing: this was not some weird hangover-induced dream. No. This was Cecilia, the demon she had unintentionally summoned last night.
Her head was spinning with confusion. Her mouth was dry, and every part of her screamed embarrassment.
What had happened? What did we do last night?
Gigi tried to scoot away, but the moment she moved, Cecilia stirred. One of her arms shifted, pulling Gigi back into her warm embrace.
“No, no—!” Gigi gasped, panic rising in her chest, but Cecilia’s grip tightened gently, keeping her pressed to her chest.
“Relax, little gremlin,” Cecilia murmured, her voice thick with sleep. “I’m just keeping you warm.”
Gigi’s pulse raced, her face flushed redder than ever. She could feel her heart pounding in her ears as she desperately tried to figure out what the hell was going on.
But as much as she tried to resist, as much as she squirmed, Cecilia didn’t let go. Instead, the demon shifted just enough to keep Gigi’s back pressed firmly against her chest, her warmth radiating through Gigi’s clothes.
And that’s when it hit her.
Oh god.
She didn’t just invite her in. She didn’t just bring a stranger into her bed. She... asked her to stay. She’d begged her.
Gigi’s stomach dropped as realisation flooded in. She had said those things—those embarrassing things. In a drunken haze, she had begged the demon to stay with her. The truth hit like a slap in the face.
But what was worse was that Cecilia was still here.
Gigi blinked rapidly, trying to push the rising panic back down. Her chest tightened, and her face felt like it was on fire. What the hell had she done?
And then Cecilia—seemingly unfazed—stirred again, her voice soft in Gigi’s ear.
“You wanted me to stay, didn’t you?” She pulled Gigi closer, her arms tightening in that possessive way that made Gigi feel like her insides were going to melt. “It’s what you asked for, little gremlin.”
Gigi’s breath hitched. She was so mortified she couldn’t speak. Her mind raced through the memories—last night, the chain, the contract—and now, here she was, wrapped in Cecilia’s arms. The connection between them, the pull of that golden chain, felt so real now.
And it was all her fault.
It had been a week since Gigi’s impulsive wish had upended her life—a week since Cecilia had bound herself to her, slipping into her world with all the quiet confidence of someone who knew they couldn’t be refused. The golden chain around Gigi’s neck weighed heavier with each passing day, a constant reminder of the demon who had become both her shadow and her storm.
Every night was the same battle, and every morning Gigi would wake tangled in the warmth of Cecilia’s arms, torn between frustration and something she wasn’t ready to name.
Tonight, Gigi lay on her side, glaring at the wall, determined to ignore the familiar dip of the mattress as Cecilia slipped into bed behind her.
“You’re tense again,” Cecilia murmured, her voice low and smooth, carrying a hint of amusement. “You always do this little thing with your shoulders when you’re trying to pretend you’re not happy to see me.”
Gigi huffed, clutching the blanket tighter. “I’m not happy to see you. You’re impossible, and I wish you’d leave me alone.”
A soft chuckle. “You keep saying that, but you’re terrible at convincing me.”
Before Gigi could retort, Cecilia’s hand slid around her waist, pulling her back into the demoness’s embrace. Gigi stiffened, her cheeks burning as she felt Cecilia’s breath against her neck.
“Let me go,” Gigi muttered, though it sounded more like a plea than a demand.
“Hmm, no.” Cecilia’s tone was light, teasing. “I think this is exactly what you need. Someone to hold you. Someone to keep you warm.”
“I don’t need you,” Gigi insisted, though her voice trembled.
Cecilia laughed softly, her fingers trailing a slow, deliberate path down Gigi’s arm. “Liar,” she said, the word playful yet pointed. “If you really didn’t want me here, you’d push me away. But look at you—you’re leaning into me without even realising it.”
Gigi’s breath hitched as Cecilia’s lips brushed the curve of her ear. “I’m not—”
“You are,” Cecilia whispered, cutting her off. Her voice dropped, softer now but no less confident. “And that’s okay, you know. You don’t have to admit it yet. I’ll wait. But I see you, Gigi. I see what you need, even if you won’t say it out loud.”
“I don’t need anything from you,” Gigi said, her words barely more than a whisper.
Cecilia shifted slightly, resting her chin on Gigi’s shoulder so her voice was closer, more intimate. “You keep saying that, but your body tells a different story. You don’t fight like you used to. You don’t pull away when I hold you. You don’t want to be alone, not really.”
Gigi clenched her fists under the blanket, willing herself not to shiver at the warmth radiating from the demon’s touch. “Why do you care?” she asked, her voice breaking.
“Because I do,” Cecilia said simply. Her fingers tilted Gigi’s chin, coaxing her to turn until their eyes met. “Because you made a wish, and whether you believe it or not, it’s my job to give you what you need—even if you don’t know how to ask for it.”
Gigi’s throat tightened, her heart pounding as she tried to look away, but Cecilia held her gaze, her green eyes unrelenting.
“Stop looking at me like that,” Gigi muttered, her cheeks flushing under the weight of Cecilia’s attention.
“Like what?” Cecilia asked, her lips curving into a faint smile. “Like I care about you?”
“Yes,” Gigi snapped, though it sounded far too soft to carry any real weight.
Cecilia’s smile widened, her thumb brushing lightly over Gigi’s cheek. “You’re adorable when you’re flustered,” she said, her voice warm with amusement. “It makes me want to…” She trailed off, leaning closer until her lips were just a breath away from Gigi’s.
Gigi froze, her pulse racing. “Don’t,” she whispered, though her voice wavered.
Cecilia paused, her lips hovering just out of reach, her eyes locked on Gigi’s. “Tell me to stop,” she said, her tone softer now, almost gentle. “If you mean it, I will.”
For a long moment, Gigi didn’t say anything. She couldn’t.
Cecilia smiled, the barest hint of triumph in her expression, before closing the distance. Her lips brushed against Gigi’s in a kiss that was unhurried, as if she had all the time in the world. It wasn’t what Gigi expected—not rough or demanding, but warm, steady, and maddeningly gentle.
When Cecilia finally pulled back, Gigi’s face was burning, her breath coming in uneven gasps.
“You—” Gigi started, but the words got stuck in her throat.
“See?” Cecilia murmured, brushing a strand of hair from Gigi’s face. “It’s not so terrible letting someone care for you.”
Gigi glared at her half-heartedly, though the heat in her cheeks betrayed her. “You’re insufferable.”
“And yet,” Cecilia said, her voice light and teasing as she settled back into the pillows, “you let me kiss you. You let me stay.”
Gigi turned away, burying her face in the blanket to escape Cecilia’s knowing smirk. “You’re lucky I’m too tired to argue,” she muttered, though her voice lacked its usual bite.
Cecilia laughed, wrapping her arms around Gigi once more. “Sleep, then, kleine Kämpferin. I’ll still be here in the morning.”
Gigi stiffened at the words, at the quiet promise they held. But as the warmth of Cecilia’s embrace enveloped her, she allowed herself—just for a moment—to relax into it.
And even though it terrified her, she realised she didn’t want the warmth to leave. Not now. Not ever.