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This was a surprising turn of events.
Somehow, you and Satan were the only two in the House of Lamentation for the afternoon. You couldn’t think of any other time that there’d be such a lack of presence in your new home - it seemed that either everybody was out or everyone was home.
You had assumed that Satan would be enthused to have the time to himself and so decided to let him be. Besides, how often did he actually have any peace?
It would seem, however, that the Avatar of Wrath had other ideas.
Never in a million years could you have predicted that he would knock on your bedroom door and invite you to come downstairs to bake with him. There was a little part of you that was almost wary at his smile and invitation, but you happily accepted nonetheless.
So that’s how you ended up in the kitchen with Satan tying your apron up in a perfect bow. He’d already set everything up that was necessary for the red x red apple pie that you were going to bake. Ingredients, prepped ; cook book, opened to the right page; mixer, set up ; oven, pre-heated.
“There you are,” he gave your shoulder a pat of acknowledgement. “I’ll cut up the apples, if you wouldn’t mind putting together the dough.”
“Sure,” There wasn’t much to it considering that Satan had already prepped all of the ingredients and had the recipe open for you. A simple matter of putting the right amount of ingredients into the bowl.
Carefully, you attempted to measure everything out perfectly. A comfortable silence had fallen between you, the steady sound of Satan’s chopping providing the background noise.
Desperate to impress, you became hyper fixated on the measurements. Everything was measured out so very carefully - you didn’t notice that the Second Born had made his way over to you to peek over your shoulder.
“How are you getting on?”
Unfortunately, for the both of you, he had startled you in the middle of measuring out a cup of flour...and you both ended up wearing it.
You turned to Satan, full of apologies, and your hand reached up to try and brush the flour out of his hair. His pink cheeks and annoyed expression didn’t really register until he spoke up, “Do you really think that’s wise when you have the very embodiment of Wrath in front of you with a knife ?” You quickly withdrew your hand, your own face now heated, and he looked away.
A beat passed before he looked back to you, his stare intense. “Sorry. I didn’t mean that and it was unecessarily impolite.” The softness of his voice was vulnerable ; this was not a demon that apologised so easily.
Gently, he brushed some flour from your own hair and he continued to stare. “You look cute like that,” A wide grin spread over his face when your cheeks darkened, “How much flour did you actually get in the bowl? Shall we measure out the rest together?” Despite your protests that you were genuinely capable of measuring out ingredients, he stayed at your elbow and helped with the rest of the dry ingredients.
He acted as your shadow for the rest of the process, guiding you through the steps ; his hand softly encasing yours through the mixing and when putting together the sugary, spiced filling.
Once the pie was gently bubbling away in the oven, Satan shooed you away to clean up properly. “I’ll grab a quick shower myself. The pie won’t be done for about an hour or so...so let’s reconvene in the kitchen then.” Well, who could say no to that charming smile?
You were thorough in trying to get the flour off of you before it caked under the water and, once cleaned, you tried to tidy your looks up some. What, you couldn’t look nice for your kitchen pie convention with Satan?
On your way down the stairs and back to the kitchen, you could smell the pie - and hear a deep roar of rage.
That spurred you to speed down the steps, but you stopped dead when you saw Belphegor staring up at you from the door. Ah, that might just explain the noise...
“I thought you and Beel were out?”
“We were,” As always, his words were drawn out and nonchalant, “But we came back. Beel got hungry...I’m guessing by Satan’s reaction that you didn’t intend to make pie for everyone, hm?”
Nothing was ever easy in the House of Lamentation, was it?