When Asmodeus had first whisked himself into his dear girl's apartment by way of curling black flames (It was the best way to travel, truly, save for the sulfuric smell and tingling sense of chilly fire crawling up one's arms.), he had been rearing and ready to butt heads with the stubborn woman, smack her around a little bit, and force her into a position that would sate both his carnality and his deep need for power.
She wasn't home.
It had been a good thing, though at the time all he could do was slam a fist into her wall and smile grimly as the plaster creaked in protest. It gave, but it didn't break. In the end, it had been better for him to take that opportunity to cool off, to clear his mind of the rage that had been slowly building over the past month or so, and to push it aside to make room for that vindictive coldness he was so very familiar with. No, he wouldn't hurt Lust and be on his merry way. He would make her suffer.
"Lovely place you have here," he commented offhandedly, one arm curled behind his head, the other resting on the haunch of Lust's rather affectionate dog. His fingers played around in snow white hair, petting gently, each stroke a mockery of sweetness. He ignored the Sin's comment entirely, instead making himself at home, kicking off his shoes and listening as they landed on the floor with a dull thump.
The moment he had decided to play cool, his entire being had perfectly conformed to the idea. At first, he had bided his time until her arrival, shamelessly snooping through her apartment, finding various odds and ends that merely confirmed his belief that the heathen was her abomination's father.
The thought made him shudder.
Afterwards, once his presence had permeated every inch of the abode, his very scent tainting her familiar home, Deus had slipped into the master bedroom and settled down for a little nap. That was when the dog had joined him, and rather than push the dumb beast away, he had gladly welcomed the company with the kind of dark amusement only great irony could bring him. "Fifi" the collar said; a traitor to the cause.
Snapping his heated eyes back towards Lust, the demon King let a slow, crawling grin spread his lips.