Sebastian arched an eyebrow when she called him horrid.  Was he supposed to be offended?  For a demon, ‘horrid’ was practically a compliment.  Besides, he’d been called<span style="font-style: italic">far</span>worse.  “Well, you’re a weepy little whiner, but you don’t hear me complaining.”<br/><br/>A soft sigh escaped Sebastian as the angel curled into a ball.  He’d truly expected to see some flicker of change in her after he proved how good pleasure could feel.  Yet here she was, whimpering and cowering, just like always.  Although he’d initially enjoyed her misery and terror, now it was becoming a bit boring -- like a favorite meal becomes boring after being eaten endless times without variation.  But perhaps that was to be expected.  After all, if corrupting an angel was all fun and games, any idiot demon could do it.<br/><br/>Walking to the room’s door, Sebastian flicked out the lights.  “Pleasant dreams, my dear.”  Then he went to find Nicholas.  He was in the mood for another glass of wine, and maybe a romp with somebody who knew how to have a good time.<br/><br/>*****<br/><br/>The next morning, Nicholas knocked on the bedroom door.  “Hello?”  His voice, while male, could never be mistaken for the demon’s.  It was softer and much more tentative.  “Can I come in?  I mean, I guess I’m coming in whether you say I can or not, so that’s a pretty stupid question.  And I know you’re not dressed.  So really, I don’t why I knocked at all.”<br/><br/>Cautiously, as if he expected to be blinded by a brilliant flash of heavenly light, Nicholas pushed the door open and peeked inside.