@lordxfhell | continued
Lucifer Morningstar leaned back comfortably in a Prada suit, delighted that the sounds of debauchery pouring out of the dance floor drowned out the sounds of laughter; his laughter. The long-neglected glass of whiskey rippled and glimmered between cradling hands, as though the liquor chortled being witness to the lecherous scenes fed to it by this club of reputable standing in the very center of the pride of the Devil. Lucifer had been generously compensated on this evening’s trouble for he had been visited by the visage of a curious young man. He had long suspected eventually they would meet as once this youth had entered, Lucifer never forgotten his face, yet it did not occur to him how soon. The case had seemed simple enough, banal, even. A lost soul intrigued by his charm, allure, devilishly handsome. How many similar affairs had he encountered?
The reality was it is not his face which kept his interests. On the contrary, the young man had him grinning by mere words. Looks can be entertaining for so long, never mind his scarlet hue tresses; instead it’s his wit. Nothing tickled Lucifer’s fancy than a sharp tongue; he would know.
“Currently my fists are busy with a glass of Chivas and it feel distastefully warm–” said Lucifer “–however, that leaves you as one of those fools.”
“You think so?” The beautiful youth replied, a ghost of a playful demeanor passing over him as he looked at the other. How long it had been since he’d behave in such a way! Perhaps it was the night and the atmosphere of the club mixing with the warm sea of bodies; all potential lovers or victims. By God, was he acting like Lestat now?
Oh, but the man he chose tonight reminded him all too much of the fiendish immortal more. There was something altogether uniquely dark about him in his feline grace, leaning simply against the bar. Typically Armand chose the ones drawing closer to the line of death to feed on, but this one--he couldn’t help the allure in taking the Little Drink.
Or perhaps he could just have this conversation with the stranger, enjoy mortal company tonight like he used to. He hadn’t done it in so long, was he afraid of the attachment that came with it now? Briefly Armand thought of his tall, willowy lover at home and her short Arab companion. It changed his countenance from that hint of a smile to something cold and unreadable, his large dark eyes boring into the crowd and petal-colored lips pursed tightly together.
“...I would more likely consider myself a devil.” Mirroring the other, the immortal leant his elbow upon the bar with an unusual ease and elegance for one looking so young. “Although I do believe we devils all start out somewhere as fools.”