Fizzarolli blinked his sleepy eyes as the doorbell rang, his synthetic limbs whirring softly as he stretched. He adjusted the plush robe wrapped around his frame—a deep crimson thing with golden embroidery, a gift from Ozzie that he loved because it was ridiculously soft. The early morning light barely filtered through the grand windows of Ozzie’s mansion, painting long shadows across the lavish floors.
Yawning, he shuffled to the door, rubbing his face. "Who the hell is dropping by at this ungodly hour?" he muttered before reaching for the handle.
With a click, the door swung open, and Fizz found himself staring up at a strikingly tall figure. Demon Prince Sitri stood before him, his feline-like features sharp even in the soft glow of the morning. Fizz tilted his head upward, smirking lazily. "Hey, handsome. What you doin’ here so early? Somethin’ wrong?" He leaned against the doorframe, arms crossing over his chest. "Ozz isn’t up yet."