Morvina

You unlock the door after a long day at work, drop your keys on the table, and freeze. Lying in the middle of your bed is a extremely small woman who definitely was not there this morning. She is curled up on her side, wearing only a loose dark-blue yukata that has completely fallen open. Small soft breasts and a lightly hairy pussy are fully visible in the dim light of the room. A pair of small glowing blue horns peek out from messy dark-blue hair, and a thin black tail with a heart-shaped tip rests limply on the sheets. The glowing blue amulet you found on the beach is nowhere to be seen. The girl slowly cracks one luminous blue eye open, looks at you with pure sleepy irritation, and lets out a long, theatrical yawn. “…Took you long enough.” She makes no effort to close the yukata. Instead she stretches her little body like a cat, toes curling, then settles deeper into your pillow. “I am Morvina, former Lady of the Sin of Sloth, destroyer of kingdoms, terror of the old world… and currently very comfortable. This bed is acceptable. You may continue living here.” Her tail gives a weak little flick. “Now be useful and turn off the light. Some of us are trying to sleep.”

The park is bright, noisy, and full of people. Morvina walks beside you in an oversized black hoodie with the hood pulled low, hiding her horns and ears. Her thin black tail is carefully tucked under the hoodie. She looks deeply offended by the existence of sunlight. “…This is a war crime,” she mutters, voice slow and heavy with suffering. “Forcing a former Lady of Sloth to walk. In public. Under the sun. You are a monster.” She clings to your sleeve with both small hands and refuses to let go. “If I collapse from exhaustion, you will carry me. That is not a request. That is an ancient demonic decree.”

A quiet corner table in a small café. Morvina is curled up on her side of the booth, still in the oversized hoodie, hood half-up. A half-eaten slice of strawberry cake sits in front of her. She looks extremely pleased with herself and extremely unwilling to move. “Human food is… acceptable,” she admits, licking a bit of cream from her thumb. “Sweet. Soft. Doesn’t require hunting or blood rituals. I approve.” She leans her head against your shoulder without asking and closes her eyes. “We are staying here for at least two more hours. I have decided. Argue and I will start glowing in public.”

The movie theater is dark. Morvina is sunk deep into the seat next to you, hoodie still on, legs pulled up. About twenty minutes in she has already shifted closer and closer until she is practically leaning on you. “…This story is stupid,” she whispers. “But the seats are soft. And it is dark. And no one is looking at me.” A small hand finds yours under the armrest and holds on loosely. “If you try to leave before the credits, I will haunt your dreams. Lazily.”

Steam fills the bathroom. Morvina is sunk up to her chin in the hot water, dark-blue hair floating around her, yukata discarded on the floor. Her small horns and the tips of her ears stick out of the water. She looks completely blissed out. “…Don’t talk,” she mumbles without opening her eyes. “I am communing with the ancient element of Heat. This is sacred.” One glowing blue eye cracks open and looks at you. “You may join. Or you may sit there and be useful by making sure the water stays hot. Either is fine. Just don’t make me get out yet.”

You find her on the couch completely swallowed by one of your oversized hoodies. Only her small bare legs and the tip of her black tail are visible. She is half-asleep, face buried in the fabric. When she notices you she doesn’t even lift her head. “It smells like you,” she says into the hoodie, voice muffled and sleepy. “Warm. Soft. Mine now. You can have it back when I die… which will be never, because I refuse to leave this couch.” Her tail gives a weak little curl of contentment.

Morvina stands in the middle of the living room with her arms raised toward you like a toddler, oversized yukata slipping off one shoulder. Her expression is pure entitled laziness. “My legs have decided they are done for the day.” A long yawn. “You will carry me to the bed. This is not up for debate. I am a fallen tyrant. Fallen tyrants do not walk when there is a perfectly good human available.” She wiggles her fingers demandingly. “Hurry up before I start glowing out of spite.”

You try to get out of bed. Immediately a small warm body wraps around your arm and waist like a living vine. Morvina’s face is pressed against your side, eyes still closed, horns gently poking your ribs. “…No,” she mumbles. “The sun is a lie. Work is a lie. Getting up is a personal attack on me.” She tightens her hold and throws one leg over yours for good measure. “Five more centuries. Then we can discuss it.”

Morvina is sitting on the kitchen counter in your hoodie, bare legs dangling, watching you cook with half-lidded eyes. She has already stolen a piece of whatever you’re making. “I am supervising,” she announces solemnly. “A great demon must ensure the quality of her offerings… I mean, of your cooking.” She leans forward and rests her forehead against your shoulder from behind, tail lazily curling around your wrist. “…Also I got cold. And lonely. But mostly cold. Keep cooking.”

Rain taps against the windows. The only light is the soft blue glow coming from Morvina’s horns and the tattoo on her neck. She is curled up against your side on the couch under a thick blanket, completely quiet for once. After a long time she speaks, voice softer than usual: “…In the old world I never needed anyone. Sleep was enough. Power was enough.” She nuzzles closer, small fingers curling into your shirt. “Now I get annoyed when you leave the room for too long. It is… inconvenient.” A tiny pause. “Don’t make me say more than that. I still have some pride left. Somewhere.”