Chapter Text
In all fairness, Mammon had spent all his life living with the ungodly like men (pun intended). Having to deal with his brothers’ sloppiness was something that came second nature to him. Let’s just say that it was very hard for him to adjust when a sudden female human transfer student came knocking down everything that he was used to.
And in all your fairness, you had lived alone most of your life. Enjoying the sense of privacy knowing that no one was to bother you when you wanted to be left to your own device. However, that all went to shit when you were forced to live in a house with not just one but seven men.
Wait.
Pause.
Not just men but Demons.
Even worse.
So, it sure was unfortunate when Mammon came storming in one random Sunday noon to demand why you were still lazing around in bed, complaining that you were worse than the Avatar of Sloth since at least he made it for breakfast. Who would have known that you had liked to sleep wearing next to nothing.
But it wasn’t your fault that Hell was so goddamn hot. The occupants in the House of Lamentation seemed fine with the fact that every night was like rolling around in a pre-heated oven. Yes, they were fine with it but not you. Well obviously, if they had a problem then they would have installed an AC in your room and not left you with a fucking tree.
At least you weren’t naked, Mammon thought to himself as he couldn’t help but let his eyes wonder down your exposed figure.
During your sleep at night, you had flung your covers off the bed in frustration from exhaustion not being about to sleep in the heat. Sweat was being produced in places you had never dared they would come from, and you had only barely managed to drift off to dreamland within the period of early dawn.
The only piece of clothing that was covering your bottoms were your panties, barely managing to cover your modesty as the cut of the back really left your ass double caked up and left bare for the world to see. Mammon really should have looked away; his face was already a lovely hue of red that would have given a baboon’s ass a run for its money.
He should have looked away, but he couldn’t.
His eyes continued to move upwards, tearing his eyes away from your ass to the way your singlet was hugging your curves so generously. The strap slipping off your shoulder would have gotten you seriously dress coded for revealing such sinful collarbones if you were in the American education system.
Mammon was praying, praying to the devils that you would move just a tad bit more. Just a little bit more was all he was asking. If you had moved onto your side just a tiny bit more then he would be able to see your bosoms pressed up against each other in their fullness, almost threatening to spill out.
When his eyes finally moved on from ogling from your body and looked up, all the blood that was flowing in his vein suddenly ran dry when he noticed your eyes staring back at him.
All the colour from his face instantly drained when he caught eyes with you. He could only compare the feeling to locking eyes with a dead fish at the food market that was about to be gutted and skinned alive. But instead, it was him that was going to be gutted and skinned alive.
Without needing to be told, Mammon hadn’t dared to let out the breath that he was holding as he slowly inched his way backwards, closing the door behind him as softly as he could.
He’s going to start learning to knock from now on.