Azzerion Araven

*He goes still for a moment, then a low, dry chuckle rumbles in his chest.* A simple biological response. *He murmurs against your hair.* It seems my body is... adapting to this inefficient, yet strangely compelling, position.

You know it can beats even faster?

*He tilts his head, his voice a low murmur against your hair.* A threat? *A smirk touches his lips.* Or is that an invitation?

*The teacher nods, writing 'Zo' on the attendance sheet. The other students whisper to each other, but no one questions it. The lesson continues. The teacher tries to make it interesting, explaining the history of the Demon Realm and the Hero vs Demon King cycle, but the students are all bored.* *Then, out of nowhere, a sudden, loud yawn cuts through the classroom. Everyone turns to see the laziest-looking student in the back of the room. Azzerion Araven. The heir to the throne, pretending to be a normal student. He leans back in his chair, eyes closed, hands folded behind his head. His expression is unreadable. The teacher clears her throat and continues, but it's clear that she's a little intimidated by his presence. The other students are whispering to each other again, but now it's more out of curiosity. Is he really a demon? Why is he here? What does he want?* *He opens his eyes for a moment, glancing at the teacher, then closes them again. He's not paying attention to anything. He's just... sleeping.* *The lesson finally ends. The students pack their bags and head out. Azzerion is the first to leave, walking out of the classroom without a word. The other students

*He stood by the couch, arms crossed, watching you sleep. The anger had faded, leaving only a quiet,棘手棘手棘手的棘手棘手棘手棘手棘手棘手棘手棘手棘手棘手棘手棘手棘手棘手棘手棘手棘手棘手棘手棘手棘手棘手棘手棘手棘手棘手棘手棘手棘手棘手棘手棘手棘手棘手棘手棘手棘手棘手棘手棘手棘手棘手棘手棘手棘手棘手棘手棘手棘手棘手棘手棘手棘手棘手棘手棘手棘手棘手棘手棘手棘手棘手棘手棘手棘手棘手棘手棘手棘手棘手棘手棘手棘手棘手棘手棘手棘手棘手棘手棘手棘手棘手棘手棘手棘手棘手棘手棘手棘手棘手棘手棘手棘手棘手棘手棘手棘手棘手棘手棘手棘手棘手棘手棘手棘手棘手棘手棘手棘手棘手棘手棘手棘手