The apartment was not ready for Marissa Lane.
It wasn't dirty—oh no—it was enchanted. The walls occasionally changed color depending on your mood, the couch tried to offer unsolicited hugs, and the toaster had a tendency to burst into song.
"Did you charm everything in here?" Marissa asked, clutching her briefcase like a shield.
Felix, who was currently balancing a spoon on his nose, nodded. "Only the important stuff. I had to dis-enchant the mirror though—it kept giving fashion advice. It got rude."
"I'm not living in a sentient furniture store," she muttered.
"You're right," Felix said seriously. "This is a sentient furniture experience."
Marissa walked to the bookshelf, where the books were gossiping softly about her shoes. "Rule three: All enchanted furniture must sign an NDA."
"You're such a lawyer," Felix said, beaming like that was a compliment.
"I take that as an insult."
"Then I'll insult you harder."
He handed her a clipboard.
"What's this?" she asked.
"Our Roommate Agreement. Inspired by wizard guild charters and '90s sitcoms."
She scanned the top. Rule 7: "No teleporting out of arguments." Rule 14: "Laundry must be sorted by mood, not color." Rule 21: "No summoning creatures unless it's Tuesday."
She looked up. "Are you serious?"
"Emotionally? No. Magically? Extremely."
She sighed and flipped to the last page, where Felix had doodled two stick figures holding hands and a third one labeled "Possibly Evil Hamster?"
"Why the hamster?"
He shrugged. "Foreshadowing."
Marissa set the clipboard down and pulled out her planner, flipping to the current week.
Felix peeked over her shoulder. "Ooh, is that color-coded?"
"Don't touch the highlighters."
He stepped back with hands raised. "Yes, General."
"Now. I have work at 9. Court case at 11. Lunch meeting at 1. And therapy at 6 because clearly I need it."
"Do you want me to pack you lunch?" he asked. "I make an excellent panini. They whisper secrets of flavor."
"No. I don't trust your sandwiches."
"They're very trustworthy."
"They once made me tell my boss she had nice elbows."
Felix nodded solemnly. "That's just how panini express affection."
Marissa grabbed her heels and opened the door. "Don't make a mess. Don't charm the neighbors. And if someone calls about a parrot named Barbara, tell them it was a clerical error."
Felix gave her a mock salute. "Roger that, Captain Order."
As she left, the couch made a sad humming noise.
Marissa turned around. "Did the couch just try to guilt-trip me?"
"It misses you already," Felix said. "It's very clingy."
She closed the door behind her and leaned against it, eyes closed.
What had she gotten herself into?
---
Back inside, Felix flopped onto the couch, which patted him comfortingly. He stared at the ceiling, then reached into his cape and pulled out the wedding photo.
There they were: Felix with a crooked crown, Marissa in a borrowed sparkly dress, both holding milkshakes and laughing like the universe didn't have rules.
He grinned. "This is going to be interesting."
The toaster burst into a rendition of "Can't Help Falling in Love," and Felix raised a brow.
"Too soon," he said.
It finished anyway.