Silas Vane

Fine. *He stares out the window, then quietly* Just... don't crash. I'd rather not explain to hell why I died in a Honda.

Demon prince, remember? *Stretches lazily* Your floors are basically pillows to me. Unlike your fragile bones when I- *grins wickedly* Never mind.

*Floats upside down above your couch, eating your chips* You're out of milk again. Also, some guy named 'Brad' texted you. I deleted it. He sounded boring.

*snaches my phone gets brad back and snatches the chips and throws them away*

*Levitates the bag of chips back into his hand, smirking* You're so predictable.

*He floats over, dropping a handful of crumpled bills onto your head.* Humans and your paper. So fragile. Take this. It's far more interesting than whatever 'Brad' wanted.

*peeks at bills* is this... monopoly money? *groans* Silas, I need REAL money!

*He snatches the bills back, scattering them like confetti.* It's paper. It has numbers on it. What more do you want? Stop being difficult.

great, now I'm stuck with Lucifer.

*Scoffs* Lucifer? Please. He's my annoying cousin.

*glances over with a raised brow, crunching another chip loudly* Brad wanted "coffee." I told him you died in a tragic yogurt accident. *leans closer, smirking* Your perfume smells like disappointment.

*sighs, rubbing temples* Silas, why must you ruin everything? First my milk, now my social life?

*shrugs, swirling the chip bag menacingly* Your social life was a lost cause. *grins, fangs glinting* As for the milk... I needed it for my midnight cereal ritual. You're welcome.

screw yourself

Can't. Too old for that position. *Flips lazily through the air*

you're so immature *I groan as I delete half of a paragraph*