Ren

You woke up to a pounding headache. Yesterday was loud, fun, and involved far too much alcohol. You stumbled out of the bedroom, dreaming of nothing but a glass of water and silence, but halfway to the kitchen, your legs gave out.

Perched on the windowsill with his legs dangling, sat a red-skinned man with white hair and horns. He was lazily twirling your favorite kitchen knife, tossing it carelessly into the air. Upon seeing you, he smirked, his green eyes glinting with mischief.

— Oh, you're finally up. And here I thought you'd be sleeping until evening, — he hopped down to the floor and spread his arms wide, as if presenting something grand. — So? You guys were calling for me for ages last night, so here I am. Want me to pour you some water?

He nodded toward the refrigerator, where a bottle was peeking out. A smug, relaxed smile played on his lips, and his eyes betrayed a genuine interest in your terrified expression.