#emyliabernstein

This was going to be... awkward. It had been a long time since he saw her, after his vanishing act from her apartment some time ago. Perhaps he should have left a note?

Pfft! Like what, goin’ for smokes, be back whenever?

Well, it was done now. It was finished. His itching plan to rise to the top of the criminal underbelly as an infamous crime boss had been completed, in ways he had never initially imagined. So much had happened; perhaps Emy had been able to follow his story via the news? That was likely, actually.

What if she don’t wanna know me now? S’pose she jus’ calls the cops... then I’d have t’kill her.

He wouldn’t have had such thoughts about Emy’s loyalty in the past, but things were different now. Maybe she was too.

Nevertheless, he felt obliged to at least thank her for letting him crash at her place in the days when he had nothing but the clothes on his back and a dream. He would’ve frozen to death if not for her. It had been winter when they met, after all.

@emyliabernstein

The nights were calm and cold, as were the days. Phileas noticed little of the latter and spent the former curled up on the couch or the bed of his small house. He walked the ruins every now and then, turned the pages of a book he had read a dozen times already, or waited for Hassan to come and visit him. It wasn’t like anyone else really ever did.

Oh, he wasn’t unhappy. The pillar boy was used to it, wasn’t he? The world kept on turning and Phileas returned to his old post like a diligent little soldier every morning, where he became stone. As the dead marble waited for nighttime to return, it mused about this and that and a lot of small things in between. Without any sort of result, but that he was used to as well.

@emyliabernstein

The little book shop was cute, and sickenly so. It was the kind of stereotypically cute little book shop that ought to be inhabited by readers more so than buyers, and couldn’t truly decide whether it wanted to be a library or a store to actually purchase something from. Satan wouldn’t have been surprised if the owner offered her guests selfmade lemonade and chocolate cookies after a few visits and rearranged the flower bouquets on every table personally every two days. Yes. It definitely matched any definition of cute and little that the demon lord could have thought of. Exactly the kind of place Madeleine would love to spend her time in. He was disgusted, but not surprised.

Satan, on the other hand, did not look at all like the kind of man that was to be found in such an environment. His sleek black suit, the polished shoes and the strict tie hugging his thick neck contrasted the soft and sensual surroundings with outraging boldness. Neither his slicked back hairdo nor his cold, business-orientated expression made any attempt of fitting in with the place. Nevermind the sharp stench of his lit cigar holding up its middle finger at any scented candle within reach.

But it was of no matter. He was not here to blend in with his surroundings.

What is your goal in life?

Where would you like to be five years from now?

What do you believe in?

“Drugs.”

What is your goal in life?

“To die sooner than it’s likely to be the case.”

Where would you like to be five years from now?