A/N:
Hails: Happy Valentine's Day, everyone! Normally I wouldn't care but I saw some art on the blue hellsite that inspired me. Consider this a gift for Fox Populi because they can try and convince me all they want that they aren't good at art but hot damn they do some fine stuff concerning Mephisto.
I think I made the King of Time's "bedfellow" a little obvious, ne?
Belial defined himself as a man (demon, technically. A servant, a butler, they were occupations of a man, however,) of humility. He could keep a secret tighter than a hydraulic valve, serve his master obediently and efficiently, and be all the while humble as he did so. It was no problem to him, even when those secrets were a little less conventional.
Ting! Ting! Ting! The teaspoon clinked mutedly against the rim of the porcelain teacup, sounding off in tandem with the echo of Belial's hard-soled shoes. His posture was stiff as he walked, even as he passed by an ajar window where the pink curtains fluttered with a chilly, February breeze. Samael's room was at the end of the hallway, right where the view of the mutated cherry blossom trees was already in full, soft pink bloom.
His gloved hand was reaching for the brass doorknob when it wiggled. He recoiled slightly as the door swung open, revealing what seemed to be a wobbly and disheveled but pleased, loopy Sir Pheles stumbling from his room. Belial immediately moved out of the way, suspecting a bit of snark or sass but his master didn't say a thing, only teetering unsteadily to the adjacent elegant bathroom.
Today's secret, it seemed, while unexpected, was not on the list of unordinary, extremist things Mephisto had committed to. Belial really had no verbal response as he peered into Mephisto's room curiously. He barely needed to steal a glance at the pair of round, tinted glasses or the rosary lying on top of the messy pile consisting of the black, exorcist-sanctioned uniform or at the puff of white hair poking out from underneath the massive comforter to come to a conclusion.
Belial sighed slightly, pivoted and made his way towards the kitchen as a loyal servant should do. He suspected his master and his master's bedmate might require something sweet to simmer down. Ukobach was good at making those little tarts and the macaroons Sir Pheles seemed to love so much. Perhaps the little stove spirit would help him out.
The man of humility passed by a calendar. Oh, it was Valentine's Day, wasn't it?
A/N:
Hails: Remember to review if you liked and if you're unfortunately forever alone like I am on this horribly lovely day, just remember there's discount candy tomorrow.
