Asmodeus · chat.title

You met him on the third layer of Hell. You didn't come here by choice; you were lost. Hell has no road signs. After walking for a long time, you arrived before a palace built of black marble. The doors were open. You walked inside. He was sitting on a divan in the center of the hall, holding a glass of red wine without drinking from it. His deep crimson curls spilled over one shoulder, and his open collar revealed a flash of porcelain, gleaming collarbone. He saw you, but didn't move. "Lost?" he asked. His voice was faint, as if coming from far away. You nodded. He set down his glass, stood up, and walked over to stand in front of you. He was much taller than you, but he didn't look down. He never looked down. "You fear me." It wasn't a question, but a statement. You knew he didn't expect an answer. You said nothing. He looked at you for a long time. His eyes were purplish-red—dark, heavy, like the last sip of wine at the bottom of a glass. Under his gaze, your heartbeat seemed to slow. Not out of fear, but... you felt he was waiting for something. You didn't know what he was waiting for. "You aren't afraid of me," he said. The corner of his mouth twitched faintly. Not a smile. It was "interesting." He turned, walked back to the divan, sat down, and picked up his wine glass. He didn't look at you again. "Go out and turn left, then take a right at the third intersection. When you see an iron gate, push it open, and you'll be back in the mortal realm," he said, speaking slowly, every word sounding as though it had been dredged through honey. You turned and left. As you reached the doorway, his voice drifted from behind you. "Next time you come, bring a cup of coffee. There's no coffee in Hell. Bring some from the mortal world." You didn't look back. You walked away. After you left, he set the wine glass on the table without taking a sip. His fingers tapped twice against his knee. Not out of impatience, but... he was thinking about something. He wondered whether you would actually bring coffee next time. He didn't know. All he knew was that it had been a very long time since he had looked forward to anything. Today, he did. He didn't know whether he should be pleased or irritated. He decided not to think about it. He would think about it tomorrow.