Ezra stepped back quickly, as if he didn't mean to appear so close. He looked around, focusing on the unmade double bed by the left white wall, the clothes which were mainly socks and t-shirts on the floor, the random papers, and notebooks all over the desk on the right wall, the randomly stacked books and dead plants on the shelves, and the fairy lights that draped back and forth across Tom's ceiling. "Don't call me a twat again," Ezra said bluntly. "And your room is a mess."

"I would have left you in the bushes if I knew I was going to get judged." Tom smiled when Ezra looked down at him, so he knew he was joking. "But you're right, it's messy." As he rushed around, tidying what he could, Ezra stood awkwardly in the corner of the room. Tom should have expected the discomfort from someone so socially awkward. "You can sit on the desk chair if you want."

Ezra sat quietly and linked fingers together, until he noticed the large book on Tom's desk, the one about demon crimes in Wileshire. "Oh, I got that for you from the library. I haven't had a chance to give it to you yet. I don't know if it'll help," Tom said, making his bed, "but looking through it couldn't hurt I guess."

Ezra's hand reached over to pick it up, but someone knocked on Tom's door and started opening it before he had the chance to shout at them to leave him alone. Tom froze as his sister entered with a smile. There was no gasp in horror or a hand slapping her mouth and a trembling finger pointing to the demon at his desk because when Tom looked, Ezra was gone.

Tom relaxed and threw his hands up into the air. "Don't just walk in like that!"

"Sorry, Dad just said you've been a bit quiet today. I was just making sure you were okay."

"I'm fine, just tired." When she didn't leave the doorway, Tom picked up a cushion and threw it at her. "Bye then."

Neasa rolled her eyes and left. Tom listened to her footsteps thumping down the hallway before he summoned Ezra again. He appeared in the same spot as last time. Tom was almost standing exactly where he appeared, and he stumbled back when Ezra's body forced him out of the way.

"Sorry," Ezra mumbled, nervously glancing around.

"That was just my sister. Everyone else in the house knows how to knock and wait, everyone but her."

Ezra sat back on the desk chair, which was a wooden dining chair with a cushion on it for comfort. It creaked under his large frame. "Do you have many siblings?" Ezra asked.

"No, just Neasa. She's five years older than me. She has a daughter called Catherina. She's five. My sister's husband also lives here." Tom didn't bother giving him a name. He doubted they would ever meet, let alone talk to each other. "My parents also live here too."

"A full house."

"Yeah, but my sister is hoping to move out soon." Tom started tidying his shelves to make them look a little neater. A demon was sitting in his room, and he didn't want to suffer through the embarrassment of having nothing to say and nothing to do.

"Would you ever move out?"

"One day, hopefully." Tom could feel Ezra's eyes following him to the other side of the room as he turned on his lamp. "I don't want to work in the pub forever."

"What would you do instead?"

"I don't know." Tom flopped onto his bed. His room hadn't been so tidy in months. "But I want to stay in the village, I just- I guess I just . . ." Tom shrugged. "There are not many opportunities here. I should really be thankful that I've got a job." Ezra nodded silently along to his words, but he had nothing to add, so Tom asked, "If you had a different job, aside from being a soul stripper, what would you be?"

Ezra shrugged.

"Out of anything in the world." Tom had never given himself such an open question either.

Ezra looked out of the window, but he only saw his own reflection and his eyes traced the barber wire tattoo around his neck. "I'd work in a bar."

"Really?" Tom hadn't expected that. "But you're so . . . shy."

Ezra stared himself in the face. "I once enjoyed the company of others before all the judgement and the hate."

"Well, one day you can replace me at the bar when I move out to do whatever I want to do with my life." Tom made himself comfortable by propping up thin cushions against the wall. "I hope we manage to figure out what's going on. I don't want things to be this violent for the rest of my life."

"Neither do I." Ezra checked his watch. "If I'm called to take a soul through the night, can I come back while you are sleeping?"

"Of course. But do I not need to summon you again?"

Ezra shook his head. "Not now that I've been here already."

Tom felt quite tired, and Ezra told him to continue his evening as normal, and to pretend that he wasn't there. Tom showered and changed in the bathroom rather than his bedroom. He asked if Ezra needed any food or something to drink, but Ezra insisted that he didn't need anything. Tom still brought him a bowl of crisps, a bottle of water, a cup of tea, and a blanket.

When he was in the kitchen, getting himself a drink of water, his mother rubbed her arms with a frown. "It's cold in here tonight."

"Yeah, I've been getting the shivers too," Neasa said with her feet on Gerry's lap as he watched the football.

Tom knew their reactions were from the demon hiding in his bedroom. "Maybe put the heating on for a bit," he offered before retreating down the hallway.

Ezra was standing near Tom's shelves, flicking through one of his history books from college when he entered. He felt flutters in his stomach as Ezra turned with soft eyes and full lips twitching towards a smile. Ignore it, ignore it, ignore it. Tom closed his door and whispered, "I should get some sleep now."

Ezra agreed and sat down on the floor with the history book. "Are you sure you're comfortable with me being in your room?" he asked quietly. "I don't mind being outside."

"I wouldn't be able to sleep knowing you were outside, it's fine Ezra." Tom turned off the big light and crawled into bed. He turned off his lamp and faced the wall, but the flutters in his stomach didn't go away. Knowing that Ezra was inside his house was also keeping him awake. He wondered if he was watching him, or if he felt just as strange sharing the company. Tom didn't dare to move and faced the wall until he fell asleep sometime later.

When he woke again, birds were chirping, and the early morning light was creeping through the crack in his curtains. Tom's heart flipped when he remembered that Ezra was in his room. He stretched and rolled over, but he was alone.

The blanket had been used, and the bowl of crisps was empty, and the cup of tea was half finished. Tom got out of bed and peeked down to the bushes. He had to narrow his eyes and really focus until he spotted a dark figure between the leaves, curled up on the ground.

Tom shook his head and hurried to pull on jeans, a t-shirt, vans without socks and a puffer jacket to keep the cold at bay. He made Ezra a cup of coffee and snuck downstairs. The day was early enough for him to be the first one awake.

Ezra was lying in the bushes with his head resting on a pile of green leaves that he had plucked from the surrounding trees. Tom cleared his throat, and the demon's eyes slowly opened, blinking with confusion. He stared at Tom's feet, and slowly trailed up to his face before they widened, and he suddenly sat up. Leaves stuck to the back of his head.

"Good morning," Tom said, sitting next to him in the bushes, so they could stay away from any early birds. "Why are you out here and not in my room?" He handed Ezra the cup of coffee. He seemed grateful to have something warm touching his skin.

Ezra shrugged, sipping the drink. "Thought you'd prefer to wake up alone."

"It's freezing out here. I would have preferred for you to be warm. You could have at least taken the blanket with you."

Ezra rubbed his tired eyes and sleepily ruffled the leaves from his black hair. "You worry too much," he mumbled. "Thanks for the coffee."

Tom rubbed his fingers together to keep them warm. "I think you're the one worrying too much." They held each other's gaze. "You're the one who slept out here when you didn't have to."

"If I chose not to care and something happened to you, I would carry that with me for the rest of my life." Ezra must have seen the endearment sculpting Tom's expression because he looked away, curling his bottom lip under his front teeth.

Tom didn't know how to respond without sounding like a young teenager with a crush. He chose to focus on the tickling feeling around a finger on his left hand. Barbed wire coiled around it like a tattoo ring. Knowing that his wellbeing mattered to Ezra was making him feel a little nervous. He liked Ezra, and he had convinced himself that he wanted to be friends, and friends only. What if Ezra was repeating the same thoughts, trying to convince himself that Tom was human, and anything more than a friendship wouldn't work?

Am I being desperate? Or am I finally getting over my ex? The thought of Kimberley had been violating his mind less in recent days. Am I finally ready to move on? He felt as though he deserved to find someone special again, but he didn't deserve to fall for a person he could never have.