~Grayson's Point Of View~
The demon treehouse is as weird as they come.
Grayson can hear it breathing the walls. He can hear the slow pulsing, resin-scented breaths that make the planks creak like ribs are flexing. Shadows pool in the corners, twitching when he doesn't look directly at them. A home built by demons can only ever be half a home while the other half remains a threat.
He goofs off in the lone chair which seems like the only piece of furniture shaped for human bones, his long legs are stretched out with one boot kicking lazily against the floor.
Morgan is at the window with an attentive posture, scanning the labyrinth outside. He always looks like that when he thinks no one's watching. Sometimes, Grayson wonders if there's more to his twin than even he knows. Yes, Morgan is just as outspoken and goofy as him, but in private, when Grayson watches his brother from behind, all he sees is a tall, grim, and brooding guy hiding behind the mask of goofiness.
