At the sanctum, today the café remained closed. Azrael, feeling the weight of a hectic week, decided to lay down on the couch, seeking a moment of relaxation. As time passed, weariness took over, and his eyes slowly closed, drifting into a peaceful slumber.
Suddenly, Azrael was jolted awake by an unexpected heaviness on his back. Panic surged through him, his heart racing as he struggled to identify the source of the pressure. "What the hell?! What's on me?!" he exclaimed, frantically pushing against the unseen weight.
Casper, hearing the commotion, hurried over to the couch and explained, "Sorry! I don't know why Willan decided to lay on your back." He crouched down in front of the mischievous creature and scolded, "Willan, how many times have I told you Azrael isn't a cushion?" Despite Casper's words, Willan seemed uninterested in vacating her comfy perch on Azrael.
