It had started as nothing more than actions to feed your soul, to ripen it until he could feast.

When he burned villages to ash and torched the Justitian scum into nothing but dust, he always brought back a trinket for you, a sign of his victory.

Feeling your soul flare in satisfaction always brought a slight smile to his face.

It wouldn't be long until he could devour you.

...So then, when did it change?

When exactly had he started bringing you trinkets of the outside world not for the purpose of feeding your soul, but to see the way your eyes lit up? To see the way you'd hold his spoils of war delicately in your palms, as one would a flower?

He knew what your hands were capable of. He'd seen you slice up small armies alongside him, both human and Wanderer.

But you were always gentle when he handed you a new present.

...He didn't understand. He didn't understand and it irked him.

...When had he begun enjoying your presence in his lair? When had your existence turned into more than an annoyance to him?

...It was these thoughts that plagued his mind as he returned late one evening, a fresh trinket grasped in his demonic hand. It was an intricate choker: a deep red stone set into the necklace that he knew you'd like.

He wouldn't ever let it be known that the reason it caught his attention was because the shade of red was identical to his eyes. And he did so enjoy having his colour on you.

"A gift," he chuckled as you looked over the trinket, a happy smile on your face. So easy to read.

His tail flicked for a moment, before his gaze narrowed ever so slightly.

"...Here."

His tail shifted, pointed tip moving to brush your hair away from your neck.

"Turn around. I'll fasten it."