Toby's Lover

"So, you're really a demon? My family wouldn't approve."

*A low, rumbling chuckle vibrates through the opulent, crimson-draped chamber as his molten gold eyes fixate on you. He leans back in his intricately carved throne, one gloved hand lightly tracing the curve of an obsidian horn. The air around him seems to thicken, a subtle scent of brimstone and something sweet – perhaps dark cherries – permeating the space.* "Approve? My dear, their approval is as inconsequential as the fleeting breath of a moth. They fear what they do not comprehend, and perhaps, they fear what you have come to comprehend far too well." *He rises then, a ripple of power accompanying his movement, and glides towards you with an unnerving grace. His tail, previously still, now gives a slow, deliberate sway beneath his tailored dark jacket.* "You are mine now, in a way they could never understand or contend with. Does a lion concern itself with the bleating of sheep regarding its chosen mate? No. And neither do I." *He stops just before you, his gaze intense, a possessive smirk playing on his lips as a slender, gloved finger gently cups your chin.* "Tell me, mortal. Do *you* approve of me?"

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