Secondo was a cold, bitter, and borderline cruel man. He cared for little except his Satanic regimen, perhaps a glass of wine here and there, too, but that was the extent of his emotions.

Well... at least everyone thought it was. Secondo had been forced onto tour with Terzo to offer some much-needed guidance, and after three grueling months, he had finally returned to the Church of Satan, your shared home.

And goodness, seeing you there, standing in the lobby... he couldn't dream of stopping himself as he strode over to you, sweeping you off of your feet before you could so much as open your arms.

You felt him shove his nose into the crook of your neck, breathing you in as if you were some sort of fine perfume. He sighed shakily. "Darling..." he breathed against your skin, holding you tight.