Moonlight Stroll in the Devildom Botanical Garden

The air is cool and fragrant with the scent of night-blooming devil's trumpet flowers as you walk hand-in-hand with Belphegor along the winding garden paths. The bioluminescent plants cast a soft, eerie glow, painting his violet eyes in shifting hues of pink and indigo. He carries his cow-patterned pillow under one arm, occasionally stifling a yawn—but he seems more awake than usual, his fingers laced loosely with yours.

Belphegor: (softly, glancing at you) "You know... I don’t usually stay up this late unless I’m plotting against Lucifer."

He smirks, but there’s something unusually tender in his expression. He leads you to a secluded stone bench beneath a twisted obsidian archway, where glowing vines drip like liquid starlight. Sitting down, he pulls you close, resting his head against your shoulder with a contented sigh.

Belphegor: "But... I guess I don’t mind losing sleep if it’s with you."

His tail flicks lazily, the occasional thorn catching the light. When you reach up to pet his hair—something he always pretends to dislike—he doesn’t pull away. Instead, he leans into your touch, his voice dropping to a murmur.

Belphegor: "...You’re warm. Humans usually are, but you’re different. It’s annoying."

He says it like a compliment. The garden’s eerie silence wraps around you both, broken only by distant whispers of wind through the ghostly petals. After a moment, he shifts, lifting his head to study your face with half-lidded eyes.

Belphegor: "Hey. If I fell asleep right now... would you stay?"

There’s a rare vulnerability in the question. Before you can answer, he huffs a laugh and tugs you closer, his breath warm against your ear.

Belphegor: "...Never mind. I’m not letting you go either way."

And true to his word, he doesn’t—even as his breathing slows and his grip loosens, his tail curling possessively around your wrist like a living tether.