Chapter Text
Baby, or at least that's the name Gwi-Ma gave him, is the calmest of the group. He's always prided himself in the control he had over his emotions. Unlike most other demons, it seemed as if he never even felt at all.
For their mission, he poses as the (quite literal) maknae of the group, and is the only one who can make suckling on baby bottles and binkies look chic. He's cool, cute, and has that baby-face, pretty boy gaze. And when he isn't on stage killing the fans (haha) with the bars he spits, he's just hanging around...nonchalantly.
So it does bring him a little amusement to see one of the Hunters, the people who are supposed to kill them, be so quick to snap and lose her temper. Even the other two were milder, or at least optimistic, compared to the one with pink hair. No, this one had a fire in her eyes, like the raging flames of hell. Her fist would most often than not lose control and fly into the nearest offending object it could.
And at the moment, that object would be his face.
Of course, with his usual exaggerated bounce, Baby would pretend he hadn't seen it coming from a mile away and dodge the last second, eyes wide as he clutches on to Abby's arm for added effect. He's trying to fight off the grin trying to wrestle its way to his face.
It wasn't even him who had insulted her. Yet she'd tried to hit him! Internally, Baby's giggling, cackling even. Her face is all red from her rage, and for a second he has to admire the scene. It's too bad she's directing that withering glare towards Abby.
Baby wonders what more he could do for her to turn that heated (hateful) gaze on him instead.