"I'm Dating My Best Friend's Sleep Paralysis Demon"

Chapter 1: The First Visit

The first time I saw him, I thought Sarah was exaggerating.

She had described her sleep paralysis demon in frantic, late-night texts for months—shadowy hands, glowing eyes, breath like winter. But when I rushed over after her latest 3 a.m. SOS call, I found something entirely different.

He was lounging on her chest like a cat, one smoky elbow propped on her sternum, chin resting in his palm. His form flickered at the edges, as if he couldn’t decide whether to be fully corporeal or not. Moonlight passed through him, illuminating the sharp angles of his face—high cheekbones, a smirk that was more amused than menacing.

And he was reciting poetry.

"Your heartbeat stutters like a skipped record," he murmured, tracing a finger down Sarah’s frozen arm. "Your fear tastes like... peppermint and regret."

Sarah’s eyes darted to me, wild with panic.

I did the only thing I could think of—I threw a pillow at him.

It passed right through his chest and smacked Sarah in the face.

The demon—Lucian, as I’d soon learn—turned his head slowly, raising an eyebrow. "Really?"

"Get off her," I said, gripping the baseball bat I’d brought for moral support.

He sighed dramatically and floated upward, releasing Sarah from his weight. She gasped, bolting upright like a drowning woman breaking the surface.

"You’re no fun," Lucian said, drifting toward me. His form solidified slightly as he leaned in, close enough that I could see the flecks of silver in his otherwise black eyes. "But you are... interesting."

Then he vanished, leaving behind the scent of ozone and something faintly sweet, like burnt sugar.

Sarah collapsed against her headboard, trembling. "He’s never let me go before."

I stared at the empty space where he’d been. "Yeah, well. I have a way with menacing supernatural entities."

Chapter 2: The Midnight Texts

Three nights later, my phone buzzed on my nightstand.

Unknown Number: You left your scarf at Sarah’s.

Unknown Number: It’s hideous.

I sat up, heart pounding. The only people who had my number were Sarah, my mom, and the Thai place down the street.

Me: Who is this?

Unknown Number: The demon you assaulted with a pillow.

Unknown Number: Also, Sarah’s fridge is disgusting. Tell her to clean it.

Attached was a blurry photo of my scarf draped over Sarah’s toaster—along with what looked like a shadowy middle finger.

I should’ve blocked the number.

Instead, I replied: Why are you texting me?

The response came instantly:

Lucian: Because you’re the first person in 200 years who didn’t scream.

Lucian: Also, you’re cute when you’re threatening me with sports equipment.

Chapter 3: The Diner Date

That’s how I ended up at a 24-hour diner at 3 a.m., sitting across from a sleep paralysis demon who was very earnestly explaining the hierarchy of nightmare entities.

"Ghosts are basic," Lucian said, stirring his coffee—black, no sugar, because of course. "Poltergeists are try-hards. But Mares? We’re the poets of the paranormal."

His form flickered under the fluorescent lights, sometimes solid enough to cast a shadow, sometimes translucent. When he reached for the syrup, his fingers passed through the bottle twice before he managed to grip it.

"So you’re, what, cursed to haunt people’s dreams?" I asked, stealing a fry from his plate.

"Contractually obligated," he corrected. "Sarah summoned me when she was nine. Chanting ‘Bloody Mary’ three times in a mirror? That’s basically signing a lease."

I snorted. "So you’re her supernatural roommate."

"Exactly." He leaned forward, suddenly serious. "But you... you’re different. You don’t fear me."

"Should I?"

His grin was all sharp edges. "Most do."

Chapter 4: The Possession Problem

Dating a demon comes with challenges:

No Daylight Dates – Lucian can only manifest between midnight and 4 a.m.

Possession is Tricky – He "borrowed" my ex’s body to take me dancing (Jake was very confused the next morning)

The Sarah Situation

She stopped speaking to me after walking in on Lucian braiding my hair with shadows.

"You’re dating my sleep demon?" she shrieked.

"Exclusive," Lucian corrected, not looking up from his task. "We’re going to Cracker Barrel."

Chapter 5: The Frost Sonnets

Last night, I woke to find my bedroom window covered in frost—not the usual kind, but words, carefully etched into the ice:

"Roses are red,

My existence is cursed,

But your snores sound like

A symphony rehearsed."

On the pillow next to me lay a single black rose, its petals shimmering with something that wasn’t quite dew.

From the mirror across the room, Lucian’s reflection winked at me.

"Happy six-week anniversary," he murmured.

I sighed, pulling the covers over my head. "You’re ridiculous."

"And yet." His voice came from right beside my ear now, cold breath raising goosebumps on my neck. "You’re still here."

I was.

And honestly?

I wouldn’t have it any other way.