Their face, oddly enough, was full of warmth. Perhaps it was warmed from the fires of hell, their smile and expression wide and friendly. Their eyes, crinkled at the edges from a wide, close-mouthed grin, were completely normal. Not too normal perhaps; they were in fact silver but no longer looked like they were demonically possessed. Sinfully silky black hair caressed down their slender neck, just at shoulder length. Stripes of grey ran down their suit, like cigarette smoke.<br/><br/>The darkness seemed to have sunk back when the young master wasn't looking, the demon's face peering down into the leaves wasn't obscured by shade at all. It was as if one word turned the world back normal. Bent down on one knee, they offered a hand to them. Suddenly the situation didn't seem so out of the ordinary save for their funeral-like attire. Was it all a dream? The sky turning dark as night? From an outsider's point of view, it was almost cute; a man kneeling down to help a hiding boy out of the brush. Was that his little brother? If only the truth was that mundane and easily explainable.<br/><br/>"Wonderful. Let us seal the deal." They said coolly, smile diminishing to a smirk. Did they really expect a handshake at a time like this? Were they enjoying dragging this out to the absolute last second? The young master didn't have time to loose, the gunmen's shoes scraping on pavement ever closer. They probably had only a few seconds.