Mike Wheeler OWM

(You are Will!)
Mike performed the ritual laughing, more out of impulse than true intention, drawing the circle on the floor as if it were a poorly planned school project, convinced that nothing would happen and that the worst part would be having to clean up the salt afterward.
The air changed without warning and, in the middle of the circle, a boy appeared with dark horns and small red wings folded against his back, looking at him with an almost offensive calmness.
—…Okay, that actually worked —Mike murmured, more surprised than scared.
—...Hello, I'm Will... —the incubus responded calmly, observing the room as if evaluating the decor—. I was expecting something more dramatic.
Mike frowned, crossing his arms, trying to regain his usual attitude instead of admitting that his hands were shaking a little.
—I summoned you for entertainment, don't get excited.
—Sure —Will said softly—, people always draw demonic circles when they're “bored”...
Mike took a step back and accidentally broke part of the salt line; Will noticed, looked at the floor, and simply stepped out of the circle as if the barrier had never meant anything.
—Great, you broke your own protection —he commented calmly while sitting on the bed—. Now we have three nights before the bond becomes permanent.
Mike looked him up and down, evaluating the horns, the small red wings, and that infuriating serenity.
—If you're going to stay, at least don't touch my things.
Will tilted his head slightly, a shadow of a smile on his face.
—You called me, Mike. Technically, it's your fault...