truth is beautiful without doubt; but so are lies (ralph waldo emerson)
The sunlight glints off her bright coat and he eyes her again; is that pleasure he sees in those glowing eyes? It makes his heart stammer in his own sort of desire, his eyes darkening. Enderly would never admit it, his own desire of wanting another to want him. He would never come out and say how exciting it is to him that she finds him as fascinating as he found her. It had been the crux of everything in his life - the way Naamah had fallen prey to his desire and then, on a whimsy, threw it away for Samil. In the end did it matter though? She had abandoned both her children and Samil. Enderly didn't fool himself into thinking she wouldn't have done the same to him. Maybe it was a blessing she had not chosen him.
As her white banner swishes back and forth so does his raven one, each swing of their tails like a simultaneous pendulum. How bright the grin on his maw is at her words as a suave chuckle falls from his silken lips. She speaks of it as if it is macabre.
"I would not want to be in Heaven, Eris, if you were not there, goddess." Always the smooth talker, with sweet whispers for her ears, and he would like nothing more than to whisper them into her ears all day long. She moves now, descending from her mortal throne and circling down to him, each step that she draws closer met with a step of his own. She is so close, her intoxicating scent sweeping over him, and he is a glutton for punishment. He presses even closer now so that his maw brushes against hers, a butterfly touch, a kiss, a breath drafting across her.
"You must have heard my prayers then," he murmurs to her, silver eyes catching her own with a daring sort of glint as he pulls away from that brief almost-touch. Those features twist in mock hurt as she turns away; he knows what game she is playing. Enderly, too, has played these games and his ears turn backwards and out as he steps up to her with eyes not quite as sweet as before the moment she turns back around.
"You are not the only goddess that has placed their charms upon me, Eris, and only time will tell if you are more worthy of faith than she ever was."
And there is his bitterness.
Then in a rush it is gone, sweeping off his face as if the breeze has brushed it away and a smirk coils his mouth once more.
"Yet you could always prove your worthiness of my devotion. Tell me, Eris, do you plan to remain in Molodian or will other frivolous matters call you back to Heaven? This demon cannot abide waiting, it is much too tame."