Page 15 of How Not to Date an Angel

“I do them every morning—it’s become routine. I hardly think of it anymore.”

“What the hell is this for, then?” Julian asked, and pointed to the first machine, the one with the glass pot.

“That’s just a regular coffee machine. I use it for clients.”

Julian rolled his eyes. “Why don’t you just use it? Surely it’s simpler.”

“I told you, the coffee tastes better when it’s fresh. And nothing is fresher than a pour over.”

“Coffee grounds. Pour over. Humans really got creative with those names, didn’t they?” Julian drawled.

“Well, I can’t imagine why it needs to be complicated,” Rami snapped.

Julian resisted the grin threatening to twist his lips. This angel was so easy to rile.

“So yougive your clients second-rate coffee, then? Saving the good stuff for yourself?”

The angel bristled. “Well, no. I—“

“Sounds selfish, Feathers,” the demon teased, and sauntered out of the kitchen, to the very couch the angel had slept on.

“I am notselfish!” they called out, indignant, cheeks flushing prettily.

The demon hummed in response, kicking his hurt knee up on the coffee table. It was… quiet, here. In the human world.

Outside, the birds sang, and behind him, the sun streamed in through the windows, casting a glare upon the television he figured the angel didn’t get much use out of. Not compared to the overflowing bookshelves framing it, many of the books’ spines cracked and lined with use.

When the angel eventually followed after him, their coffee cup steaming, they frowned at the foot on their table.

“What? You said keep it elevated.”

Rami’s jaw ticked. Julian added a tally to the scoreboard in his mind.

“I’ll have you know that my clients get the most expensive brand of coffee on the shelves,” Rami said haughtily.

Julian arched a brow. “You pay for it yourself, do you?”

He knew the angel didn’t. Just like they hadn’t paid for this house, or even the coffee they’d spent so long making.

“Well. It makes the humans happy either way. They enjoy the coffee. Or tea, if that’s their preference.”

“Oh god, how long does that take?” Julian asked, poking fun.

The angel chuckled at that and the demon frowned. There was no laughing allowed.Stop that.

It made Rami’s eyes crinkle, and the demon didn’t like it.

Theirsleeves were covering their hands again, cupped around the hot mug.

Ah, they used the fabric as protection from the hot mug. Nowthatmade sense.

Maybe this was their coffee-drinking sweater. It wouldn’t surprise Julian if they had a sweater for each part of the day.

“Why don’t you just magic yourself a cup of coffee every morning?” Julian asked.

The angel paused before they continued taking a seat in the leather chair near the double doors of their office. The sun shone on them from that angle, and it occurred to the demon that maybe they’d placed the chair there on purpose, to take advantage of the morning rays of the sun.

How… simple of this angel to find pleasure in such a small thing. To arrange their living area around the sun’s rays.

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