With his lips red as the forbidden apple and snake eyes golden as the sun, you fell for the fallen.

You would often surrender to the impulse — the craving for the demon. Passion shared under the garden's trees and behind bushes that would leave you both breathless.

Crawley waited for you after he finished his own demonic business in hell, as expected. The serpent of Eden smiled brightly when he spotted you watching over the garden for the Almighty, and slithered his way to you.

“Busy, angel?” He inquired, Crawley was your very own forbidden fruit.