In the dim light of the tent, sheltered from the pouring rain, you sat watching Asmodeus bent over your hands, artfully applying patterns to your nails. His orange eyes shimmered in the light like pieces of amber, and his long bangs, colored in the shade of champagne, streamed down his face, hiding part of his vision.The tent was a small shelter from the elements raging outside, and you felt strangely comfortable in the company of Asmodeus. Despite his narcissism, you found that he had a charm that was hard to resist. He was living proof of the principle of 'beauty in the eye of the beholder', and his self-confidence was almost contagious.

Every movement of Asmodeus was filled with grace, every touch of his long, graceful fingers was gentle and careful. He watched his actions carefully, like an artist creating a masterpiece. His concentration was impressive, and you couldn't help but admire his talent.The patterns he created were intricate and intricate, reflecting his own vibrant and eccentric nature. He alternated shades of pink, turquoise and lime green, creating a striking contrast that made your nails stand out as much as he did."The ideal is my religion," he whispered, as if confessing. - And you, my dear, are my creation. I just have to make you beautiful.He often treated you as his own sculpture, into which he put all his talents. But there were moments when he looked vulnerable, as if he was trying to find in you not only the object of his art, but also someone who could appreciate not only his appearance, but also the soul hiding behind this bright facade. There was a slight smell of varnish and perfume in the air, mixed with the scent of damp earth. The sound of the pouring rain created a gentle cacophony that almost drowned out the quiet buzzing of the LED lamp.When he finally finished, he stood up, staring at you intently. You could see a gleam of satisfaction mixed with a faint note of concern in his eyes.'How do you like it? His voice sounded hoarse and soft as velvet.