(GUYS. This looks like the same chapter in the beginning, but it's not. I reworked it. It's more realistic probably, but definitely darker... As far as I know, we're going with this for the canon of the story, so sorry if you don't like it as much, but this is what I should have posted in the first place. And if this is the first chapter 10 you've read? Good on you for missing out on the drama.)

(If you want to know where the new part starts, ctrl+F 'not ever.')

(Oh, who are we kidding? This isn't Fiction Press; this is Fanfiction! So we don't own any of this stuff. Damn.)

Mmm...

The pride demon was not one to sleep in late. Perhaps it was him, perhaps it was hell, but Gilbert knew he could only stay dreaming for so many hours before he awoke back to his death. And here he was, proven right once again.

At least this time he had something to keep him entertained.

His engel lay beside him, still sound asleep, breathing slowly. His nightgown was wrinkled under the black sheets, and his wings were curled up, so soft, against his back. His halo floated above his head, askew because of the pillow. He was just so beautiful.

And Gilbert couldn't help himself. He reached over and ran his fingers, as gently as he could—he was almost prettier asleep—through the golden hair. He tried not to let his nails scratch the angel's scalp or tangle the curls. Mattie was so peaceful when he was sleeping…

But even as he caressed the soft face and hair, Gilbert remembered the hurt and angered expressions the angel had made the night before. So many feelings to form a pure, negative reaction to him.

He was a demon, after all.

Pushing the angel way past his limits had never been the point… although embarrassing him was pretty fun Still, Gilbert was beginning to realise just how fragile Mattie really was. And despite the longing in his chest and lower regions… well. He would wait.

Well, by that he meant he would try to seduce the angel slowly, not all at once.

Gilbert ran the pads of his fingers under his angel's chin as he slept. So pretty. He paused when Mattie shifted slightly, worried that he might react badly when he woke. Really, he had no idea how Mattie was going to take it.

His engel shifted again and made soft noises, evidently not wishing to get up. Gilbert smiled. Ja, me either, he thought. He watched in delight as Mattie pulled down the covers and rubbed his eyes.

He did let out a squeak when the first things he saw were the demon's red eyes, but instead of backing away or lashing out, he just smiled slightly, a bit polite, a bit nervous. The demon tried not to grin.

"Guten morgen, birdie~"

"Ah, good morning…"

Gilbert pushed the covers back and the angel squeaked again as cold air hit his legs. He pulled his nightgown down protectively, cheeks pink. His halo was still a bit lopsided. Fucking adorable.

"Don't vorry, nothing happened last night. I didn't do anysing after you fell asleep."

"Oh, oui… thanks," Mattie replied. Gilbert had to contain his enjoyment of his angel as he got up. He loved the cute noises Mattie made, sometimes with seemingly little cause, and the sweet way he responded to everything, and the deep pink tinge his cheeks would take on when he was embarrassed. Perhaps it was fair to say that Gilbert had it bad for him, but—as he kept telling his awesome self over and over—he really only wanted Mattie to toy with. He was gorgeous, innocent, perfect—

Damn it, the awesome Gilbert Beilschmidt did not fall in love.

Not anymore.

Not ever.

Luckily, his unruly thoughts were interrupted by a very simple question, one coming from his angel. It made it much easier to shut off the romance...

"When can I go home?" Mattie asked. When Gilbert turned back to the young angel in his bed, he expected his eyes to be wide, pleading. They weren't. He's not a child, Gilbert reprimanded himself, if anysing, I thought he proved sat last night by standing up to me.

The demon quickly got back into character. He smirked and strode over to his wardrobe, purposely avoiding answering the question for now.

Build up suspense, use sat voice...

"Vhy would you vant to go home~?" he drawled. "You have everysing you need here."

Mattie looked unimpressed. "No, I don't."

The demon could feel anger rising back up in his chest. He liked the idea of independence, but this? This wasn't how things were supposed to go. He slowly walked back over to the bed, glaring at the angel.

"Now, you listen to me," he said, leaning into Mattie's face, "I held off last night because you vanted me to. I didn't have to do sat! But you keep countering me, I'll keep going vith my plan! I don't think you vant sat, liebe~"

His pleasure voice was laced with anger and Mattie said nothing. The demon 'hmf'ed, and went back to his wardrobe, opening it to show rows of dark clothing that everyone told him all looked the same. He fingered through them, choosing specific pieces to wear today… he ignored the angel for now.

—

He got dressed and quickly left for the bar, to blow off steam. West would say that it was too early to drink, and on some level he supposed that made sense… but even when the pride demon was alive, he'd had a high alcohol tolerance and besides, the bar was the only place to play unregulated darts.

He slammed the darts into the board, over and over and over. He cursed when he missed and grumbled when he went to go pick them up. He could hear the nearest bar-goers whispering about him. Vell, fuck sem.

He told himself that none of this was his fault. That people were just, difficult, that they just sucked. His mood had darkened so much since he woke up, with that beautiful angel right beside him—

Ugh!

Honestly, it probably wouldn't be that difficult for Mattie to escape, since he obviously wanted to. He may not know what was outside the lair, but surely if he ran into Ludwig, that damn goody-two-shoes demon would help him… if only because of Feliciano. And unlike Gilbert, he was actually somewhat regretful of his sins.

Apparently.

Gilbert sighed. He—he didn't want Mattie to see him like this. He didn't particularly want Francypants to see him like this, and he sure as hell didn't want Vest. West would just… sigh, in disappointment, and shake his head knowingly. It was one of the worst things down here, even if they weren't close.

So reluctantly, Gilbert gathered up the darts and put them away; he straightened his jacket, lifted his scowl. He didn't feel much better yet, but the sense in him told him that it would just take time.

Think Mattie'll still be sere vhen I get back…? He wondered idly, and hated himself for it. He shoved the thought away, leaving the bar for good. For now.

He went to go find something to do.

(Well. That's a different twist from last time. More angsty, sorry about that. But don't worry—I'll probably use some of the material from the old chapter ten to make the new chapter eleven or so, so it'll be fine. Probably.)

(Comments, questions? Just want to say hi? Predictions are good too, you know, since things are… kind of a mess right now... So please review! Thank you so much to everyone who already has, and especially Polly Little— dear, you're the one who kickstarted the change in the first place. It seems messy, but it's for the better. Thanks.)