“I’m glad you could make time to see me.”

Mammon’s response was a diffident hum, his eyes shifting to observe everything within the Human World café; well, everything other than the person sat across the table from him.

“How’s life in the Devildom?—Oh!—and are your brothers well?”

So many questions that the Avatar of Greed should’ve been able to answer easily. And yet all he could do is give another hum, as he lifted a hand to absently scratch his temple.

“Uh, yeah. Haven’t really been able to see ‘em much…‘cause I’ve been taking up more shifts at the diner,” Mammon cleared his throat, readjusting in his seat.

The conversation drifted down the route of the mundane, work and the weather, as both parties took tentative sips of their respective beverages.

He couldn’t be blamed for having his guard up, though; the last time he spoke to this particular human was undoubtedly burned into the back of his mind. Ten stems of dark roses that were inevitably left out to die. A confession that burned in the back of his throat and a heartbroken ’goodbye’.

“So,” The demon nudged his ochre-tinted shades further up his nose, a distraction from the loud clink of his teacup that he’d clumsily lowered back onto its coaster, “Why’d ya ask me to come all the way up here, anyway?”