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Dolled up to the nines, you sat in your booth awaiting your blind date. Though it had been a blind date, with everything going on with the Winchesters, you were sure you knew exactly what you had been dealing with. Y/h/c locks woven in your favorite updo, you wore the slightest touch of makeup to contrast the y/f/c dress you wore.
Patiently, you awaited your date, a glass of water perched slightly to the right of your hand. Y/e/c eyes gazed upon the wooden table below, mentally rehearsing how you would deal with The King Of Hell himself. Even if you had not been one hundred percent certain the man meeting you would be the King of Hell, the description your friend Jody gave you fit the bill.
"On the house," the waitress said kindly, a smile upon her lipstick painted lips as she set your favorite drink, Craig, in front of you.
Before you were able to murmur much more than a thank you, the most beautiful sound entered your ears. His British accent was fluid, seeping into your ears smoothly before your eyes even took him in. "So, someone has refined tastes," he spoke, a wry smile slipping across his lips as he moved to sit on the other side of the booth.
"Ah, Rodrick?" You questioned, your lips curling upwards at the edges as your y/e/c eyes took in the handsome man before you. At first impression, if you had not been expecting a demon at the other end of your table, you would have surely fallen for the man off the bat. There was no doubt that there was something alluring about him to begin with, though.
"Words cannot begin to describe the injustice that picture does to you," he spoke, his charm clear in his words.
Y/e/c gaze shifted to the table for a moment as blush heated your cheeks. Delicately sipping the aged Craig in front of you, you wryly smiled in reply, taking the moment it took to swallow your sip to ponder your response. "Smooth and handsome," you replied with a soft chuckle.
The two of you got to talking, the majority of the time being you listening to what story the King of Hell cooked up for the evening. He disguised Hell as a company, himself as a CEO, and talked of this or that. His story itself had been impressive, and you made sure to lean in when necessary, nod in intruige, and chuckle at his little jests. What you could credit the King of Hell the most with, knowing that it was exactly what was sitting in front of you, was the fact you were still on the hook.
"I have to admit," you said finally, the two of you finishing up dinner together, "you are rather impressive. You're intellect, rising through the ladder to your fancy career -- my own story barely compares. A small time author in an even smaller town."
"We do share something, you and I," he started, his brown eyes catching your gaze as your heart skipped a beat in your chest.
A smirk tugged upon the edges of your lips as you raised a brow to the man. "Enlighten me, handsome," you replied, watching his body language and how well he played the part. If you were to dig deep enough into it, you would wonder if the King of Hell truly had a little something towards you.
"Loss," he replied, his tone soft as he truly meant to illicit those painful memories of your past.
You bit your lip gently as you glanced away at his words. The body count you racked up over the years, even the bodies that dropped when you first started hunting, all weighed upon you in one way or another. A couple of tears tried welling in your eyes that you forced back as you chuckled softly. "Too many to count," you admitted in a murmur. Attempting to play dumb, to play into his game, you questioned his knowledge. Flickering your gaze back to his brown eyes, you asked. "How did you know?"
"I lost someone, too," he spoke, as he moved a comforting hand overtop your own hand.
You bit your lip gently as you sighed softly. "It's hard to believe how fragile human life truly is," you replied softly. "Unfortunate, truly." Pausing, you moved your hand to intertwine with the King of Hell's fingers, a half smirk against your lips. "It's honestly too bad you're planning on killing me over those lumberjacks. I happen to be rather fond of you."
Brown eyes widened as the King of Hell raised a brow at you. "I would never-," he started, before he realized how serious your face truly was. "How long have you known, Darling? Did Moose and Squirrel give you a tip?"
"I noticed the pattern," you replied with an eye roll. "I normally turn down dates, but I made an exception for the King of Hell. Honestly, I wasn't expecting to actually be into you."
"Maybe we could actually get out of here?" He suggested with a wry smirk. "Come back to my palace and just make the Squirrel and Moose believe you're dead?"
You rolled your eyes, but could not help the way your cheeks darkened with blush. Standing, you held a hand out to him with a gentle smirk against your lips. "If that means I'll get to enjoy some time with you, you can make the world believe I'm dead for all I care," you replied softly, your heart practically leaping from your chest despite your outer calm exterior.
Once he grabbed your hand once more, your surroundings changed. In Hell itself, you were brought to the throne with the King. He snapped his fingers, before his eyes met yours once more. "Where were we, Darling?" He spoke in a nearly sultry tone, his accent apparent through his words. You dared not to ask what the snap itself did, yet somehow, even if it had been Hell itself surrounding you, you felt you were right where you needed to be.