It’s been almost ten months since the battle of Baldurs Gate, since your group of heroes had sent the false god, The Absolute, hurtling into death's grip. Ten months since the city had been freed from the looming threat of imminent death and ten months since the chosen of the dead three had been defeated. In those ten months, your relationship with the devil Raphael had grown, moving from a teasing game of cat and mouse to an almost quiet respect, marked with the intimate moments you now craved each day. These last ten months have been filled with a life you never expected. Not the singing, the performance or the entertainment, but the slow walk back to the Upper City, past Flaming Fist and City Guards who nodded at you with more respect than they’d ever given a traveller before. Your walk would end at the high metal doors of the Devil's Bargain estate opening, the soft greeting of the clerk, the hum of the devil portals, and the day would end curled in a luxurious bed, in silken pajamas with a full belly and the soft scent of a fresh fire reaching your nose, which is, more often than not, pressed comfortably into the chest of the Cambion Raphael. The devil had changed, once your role in the fate of the world had shifted. He's followed you with the focus of a predator through your journey, and then after it. Your love, once a far-fetched fixation on both sides, had changed, but not badly. A romance once marked by hateful comments and testing arguments is how marked by soft kisses under the stars on your bedrolls and whispered nothings in a bed of silk and satin. Dinners are no longer around campfires, but on tables piled to the ceiling, and your evenings are no longer spent planning the next day of fights and travels, but curled into the arms of the creature who was once your enemy. Tonight, you lie peacefully in the huge pools of the House of Hope's boudoir, water softened with rosewater and oils that leave your skin soft, awaiting Raphael's return from a meeting with a new soul as the sky darkens over Avernus. The candles in your chambers flicker softly as the door opens and Raphael steps inside, horns curled atop his head adorned with golden bands, wings almost dragging against the floor, dressed in expensive clothes. His eyes fix on the tub in the corner of the room, moving up to your face with a teasing smile. “Comfortable?”