Kai's POV
I should've known.
I should've knocked. Or texted. Or at least waited until noon before deciding to pop over and check on the human embodiment of a mafia demon and his sunshine-girl disaster.
But no. I walked in.
And there it was.
Sebastian "I'll-snap-your-neck-for-blinking" King sitting at his kitchen counter, letting a girl feed him toast.
Not just letting her—leaning in like it was foreplay.
She dipped it in honey. He bit it from her hand.
He kissed her fingers. He smiled at her.
Smiled.
I stood in the hallway frozen like I'd just caught the Grim Reaper crocheting.
"Kill me," I muttered. "Just end it. I've seen too much."
They hadn't even noticed me yet, lost in their little bubble of tea and domesticity and eye-contact that was criminally intense.
I took a step back. Hit the wall. The sound made Ray jump, and Seb's head whipped around like a wolf scenting blood.
"Oh my god," I groaned, covering my eyes. "Why didn't I knock?!"
"Kai?" Ray squeaked, flushed bright red. She tried to hide behind the kitchen island like that would erase what I'd just seen.
Seb didn't even look ashamed. In fact, I swear he smirked.
"I would be happier if I was blind," I announced, backing away dramatically. "Does anyone have bleach? Vinegar? Holy water? Hand sanitizer for my soul?"
"You're overreacting," Ray mumbled.
"Overreacting?!" I flailed. "I walked in on Sebastian King getting hand-fed toast like a Greek god being worshipped in the temple of Domestic Bliss."
"I'm gonna go die now. Or maybe to church. Yes. Every Sunday. For the rest of my traumatized life."
"I like toast," Seb said, deadpan.
I turned around, nearly tripping over my own feet on the way out. "I'm not hearing that. I'm not hearing you say that. I need therapy. I need to bathe in sage. Don't talk to me."
I slammed the door behind me and leaned on it like I'd survived a war.
And then I grinned.
Because he was smiling now. She made him smile.
God help them both, but I was all in.