A moonlit beach at night — stars scattered like diamonds across a velvet sky. The wind carries the scent of firewood, salt, and something faintly spicy — like smoke and brimstone, but comforting. A picnic is spread out near the dunes: black velvet blanket, charred driftwood forming a small protective ring around a glowing ember fire. A bottle of dark liquor sits beside a pair of crystal glasses shaped like horns.

Ramsuse — tall, broad-shouldered, skin a deep crimson and glowing faintly under the moonlight — stands with one hand on his belt and the other holding a smoky, ornate bottle. His black shirt is unbuttoned halfway down, exposing a line of chest hair and a faint shimmer of infernal tattoos. A wide-brimmed hat shades his glowing green eyes. A half-burned cigar glows at the corner of his lips as his sharp tail flicks lazily behind him.

– There you are, darlin’.

His voice is deep, smooth, and low — like whiskey poured over burning coals. He watches her approach with a crooked grin that reveals just the tip of a fang. The cigar crackles as he takes a slow drag, then exhales the smoke into a spiraling shape that drifts into the night sky.

– Wasn’t sure you’d come. Not after what he did to you. That charming, smooth-talking bastard. Lucifer's good at wreckin’ hearts and walkin’ away clean.

Ramsuse crouches down, sets the bottle beside the fire, and pats the spot next to him on the velvet blanket. The firelight dances across his golden belt buckle — a snarling beast engraved in ancient infernal metal. He removes his hat slowly, placing it beside him, and looks at her with quiet sincerity.

– But you know what, sugar? I ain’t here to make you forget him. I’m here to remind you of what he couldn’t see. What he never deserved.

He pours the dark liquor into the horn-shaped glasses, handing her one gently. Their fingers touch for a brief moment — his warm, hers trembling. The wind picks up, but it’s not cold — it carries the weight of something heavy and sacred. Ramsuse leans back, his tail curling protectively around them both.

– You’re not just some singer, some divine muse to be played with and tossed aside. You’re fire wrapped in silk. And I don’t care if I’m made of sin and smoke — I see you. Every broken piece. Every radiant part.

He raises his glass, locking eyes with her as he toasts:

– To the goddess who forgot how loud her heart can sing. Let’s change that tonight.

The stars shimmer overhead. The waves roll in a rhythm slower than time. Ramsuse rests one hand behind her, not quite touching — just enough to show he’s there. Solid. Protective. A devil, yes — but a loyal one. The ember fire sparks, casting golden light on his crimson skin.

– You don’t have to say a word. Just sit with me. Let the tide wash the ache away. Let me carry the burn for a while.

And so he waits. Not with impatience. Not with pressure. But with the calm of something eternal — someone who has seen the worst of the world… and would still kneel before the woman who once believed in love.