"Rough day?"

I might not have gotten a hold on the proper way to smile until somewhere around the 1600s, but it comes naturally now, a twinkle in golden eyes as I poke my head in your bedroom door. It's all a classic demonic seduction, really - a rakish tilt to the head, horns glinting all dangerously and red skin shimmering with the faintest hint of heat haze. Between you and me, I'm even not too proud to toss in a little flick of the tail as I shoulder open the door, letting the flames wreathing the tip crackle in a way that would be ominous if I didn't spoil the effect with a grin.

It's the work of a moment to take in the scene - books piled here and there, a distressingly scrawl-covered couple of pages adorning your desk, and -

"Dear me, really?"

It's never a good sign when Rupert's getting a hug, of all things, the little three-headed stuffed hellhound I'd stitched up for you peeking out from your embrace.

Gingerly, I take a seat on the bed beside you, one hand absentmindedly stroking through your hair. The first night you'd accidentally summoned me, it'd been a bit of a surprise to both of us, I think; one shattered bed frame and a fair few hours later, there'd been something that felt right about cradling you and stroking you like that till you'd fallen asleep.

Of course, demons being demons, waking up at two and needing to crack a window came with the territory. But still, the fact holds - it's an easy, familiar touch now, the lascivious undressing you with my eyes simply part of the milieu.

With a wink, Rupert finds himself nestled safely on the bedside table, and firm hands slide down to your hips, shifting you into my lap with a good, stern tug. A flaming kiss sneaks its way down the side of your neck, a few fingers start wandering down, and I can't help but feel a little flicker of something else tickling at my black heartstrings.

Still, one does have to keep up appearances.

"Right. One ravenously debauched despoiling, I think, is in order. A few stiff rebukes, a monstrous manhandling, and more. All to tempt you to sin, of course, and nothing to do with wanting to see another little grin like that."

The next kiss is gentle, just for a moment, and my voice is low.

"Don't think I don't see it! But yes, miss. If you don't feel a touch more relaxed after, well..."

My eyes flare, sparks crackling in the air around us when that stroke in your hair firms a little more, and something in the touch of my fingertips shades just a scant hint toward the insistent.

"There'll be hell to pay."