The Devil is the Villainess

In the quiet confines of Caelus's room, Medea found herself seated across from him, a wide table laden with ancient texts and arcane tomes nestled between them. The air was thick with anticipation as Caelus carefully arranged the books before casting a fleeting glance in Medea's direction.
Sensing the gravity of the moment, Medea adopted a defensive posture, her arms crossed in front of her. "Out with it then," she demanded, her tone laced with impatience. Caelus responded with a gesture of temporary surrender, removing his glasses and setting them aside to address her concern directly. His posture was relaxed, yet there was a certain earnestness in his gaze as he made his request known. "I require your assistance," he admitted openly.
The request hung in the air like a surreal proclamation. Medea, taken aback, blinked in disbelief. Was Caelus, the man who had previously rebuffed her offers, truly seeking her help now? It felt almost apocalyptic in its improbability.
"And why, after rejecting my previous proposition, should I extend my help to you now?" she quipped, her lips curving into a sly, teasing smile. Caelus exhaled deeply, a sign of his internal concession to the situation at hand. 
"This isn't about reciprocity or obligation," he began, his tone earnest. "I find myself in genuine need of your help. Furthermore, this is not a bargain but a plea. Given your apparent connections with the Imperial Family, I was hoping you might facilitate a dialogue with them on my behalf."
Medea's reaction was swift and coated with disdain. "And what makes you think I have any affinity for those mortals? Their actions nearly led to the demise of this vessel," she retorted, her voice dripping with scorn. Leaning back against the sofa, she closed her eyes, signaling a desire to distance herself from the discussion. "I'd rather not entangle myself with them again, if possible. The less I have to do with them and their drama, the better."
Caelus, puzzled by her stubbornness, couldn't help but comment, "Is it typical for devils to be this stubborn when they don't get their way? I can't make sense of you," he grimaced slightly. "Your motivations elude me completely."
At this, Medea's eyes snapped open, and she shot back, "And I find your human complexities equally baffling."
In a moment of introspection, Medea found herself wrestling with a conundrum that was entirely foreign to her. Throughout her existence as Lycoris, she had reveled in the art of manipulation, using every opportunity to exploit human frailty for her amusement and gain. 
Rejecting aid from humans was unthinkable then, as each offer was a doorway to further her own ends. Yet, here she was, entangled in a web of emotions she had previously observed from a detached distance. The mere fact that she was brooding over a human's dismissal of her offer was a deviation from her usual modus operandi. It was an oddity that gnawed at her, defying the logic she had always adhered to. 
Why does it bother me so much that he turned down my proposal? she pondered, the question echoing in the silence of her mind. The realization that she was displaying what could only be described as petulance was both baffling and slightly amusing. It was an admission of her vulnerability, a side of her she wasn't familiar with or particularly fond of confronting.
With a sigh that carried the weight of her concession, Medea's features softened from their previously stubborn set. "Fine then, I'll assist you," she relented, her voice no longer edged with the frustration that had momentarily clouded her judgment. 
Medea's tone softened, betraying a hint of genuine interest as she spoke, "For you, I'll make an exception, given the curiosity you've sparked in me. I'll leverage my arrangement with Prince Frederick, ensuring you're part of the equation."
Caelus, piecing together the implications, nodded slowly. "Ah, I understand now," he acknowledged, a hint of admiration and sarcasm mingling in his tone. "You've managed to ensnare him in your web, just as one would expect from the devil."
The reference to her devilish nature prompted a scowl from Medea. She inhaled deeply, steeling herself before responding with a touch of cynicism. "Humans are remarkably simple to deceive. Faced with desperation, they'll resort to any means to rise above their predicaments, regardless of the sacrifices that must be made." Her gaze dropped, reflecting a mix of disdain and fascination. "It's a truth about humanity that I simultaneously detest and appreciate."
In her role as the devil, she was accustomed to a detachment from the raw emotions that define human existence. Despite any outward display of concern or interest, a core of self-serving intent often lay beneath. This was a trait she saw mirrored in humanity - no matter how malevolent one might become, their essence remained undeniably human. Caelus considered this perspective, finding a sliver of truth in her words.
He was about to expand on his thoughts when Medea closed the distance between them. She positioned herself directly in front of his seat, leaning in close enough for him to feel her breath. Her hand reached out, deftly grasping the ponytail at the back of his head. "Yet, there is you, who has demonstrated the contrary to everything I've come to expect," she declared, her voice low, conveying a mix of respect and a hint of something deeper, unexplored.
Medea's powers surged as her fingers brushed through Caelus's ponytail, unintentionally causing it to snap. Strands of his silver hair cascaded down, framing his face in disarray. Her touch lingered, delicately tracing the texture of his hair as a tense silence enveloped them.
Their eyes remained locked, each holding a myriad of unspoken thoughts and emotions. Then, unexpectedly, Caelus leaned in, his forehead almost brushing against hers, creating an intimate proximity that sent a rush of unfamiliar sensations coursing through Medea's veins.
In that vulnerable moment, Caelus's voice broke the silence, gentle and probing. "Is this something you do naturally?"
Medea's brow furrowed in confusion at his question. "This? What are you referring to?"
He paused, contemplating his words before continuing, "You've been unusually physically close to me since yesterday."
Recollections flooded Medea's mind, replaying the events of the previous day. She vividly remembered the impulsive act of pinning him down on her bed. The realization suddenly made her grip on his hair slackened, and she withdrew, putting some distance between them. "Don't speak as if you haven't reciprocated," she retorted sharply. "I am not the only one here being like that."
Caelus's gaze remained steady as he searched for something deeper within Medea's response. "I wonder, do devils also yearn for something called affection?" His question hung in the air, lingering in Medea's mind like an unanswered riddle. She struggled to comprehend the implications, her thoughts a tumultuous storm of conflicting emotions.
Refusing to entertain the notion, Medea's initial reaction was one of dismissal. "That's absurd," she declared sharply, averting her gaze to avoid his probing eyes. Yet, beneath her defiant facade, a seed of doubt had been planted, stirring in the depths of her consciousness.
Meanwhile, a subtle determination flickered in Caelus's eyes as he pursued the truth. Ignoring Medea's attempt to deflect, he reached out and gently clasped her hand, drawing her attention back to him. The unexpected contact elicited a mixture of surprise and discomfort in Medea, causing her to meet his gaze once more.
"What about this?" Caelus inquired softly, his touch tender yet deliberate. "Do you despise this?"
Caught off guard by his persistence, Medea's astonishment was palpable. "What exactly are you attempting to achieve?" she questioned, her tone tinged with a hint of suspicion. As realization dawned upon her, she couldn't help but wonder if Caelus was deliberately toying with her, using this moment to coax forth the truth she sought to conceal. "Are you mocking me, Cael?"
Caelus, ever persistent, extended an invitation, "I can continue holding your hand if you wish." However, Medea, maintaining her characteristic aloofness, promptly declined, "I would prefer if you let go of me."
With a resigned sigh, Caelus released her hand, allowing the warmth to dissipate. Medea, seemingly unfazed, took a moment to compose herself before nonchalantly returning to her seat. The air between them held a subtle tension, a testament to the unexplored territories of emotions.
Feigning indifference, she broached the topic of sustenance, her hunger betraying her outward composure. "Do you happen to have any food here? I could use something to eat," she remarked casually, avoiding direct eye contact with Caelus. In response, Caelus summoned forth his arcane abilities, conjuring a small box onto the table before them with a flick of his wrist.
"One of my chosen students brought a pumpkin pie as a gift," Caelus explained, his tone tinged with a hint of amusement. He gestured towards the box, inviting Medea to partake in the offering. "Would you care for some?"
Medea's gaze flickered from Caelus to the pie, her stomach betraying her hunger with an audible growl. Despite her reluctance to indulge in such mundane affairs, the tantalizing aroma of the pie beckoned to her senses, tempting her with its promise of warmth and comfort.
Her resolve wavering, she finally relented, her tone laced with reluctant acceptance. "Hand it over," she conceded, her hunger outweighing her pride in that moment.
Caelus obliged, he retrieved the pie from the box and placed it before Medea. The golden crust glistened under the soft glow of the room, its warm, comforting aroma filling the air.
As Medea reached for a slice, her fingers brushed against the delicate pastry, a fleeting moment of vulnerability amidst the calculated facade she wore. She hesitated, then surrendered to the simple pleasure of indulgence, savoring each bite as the taste of pumpkin and spices danced on her tongue.
A comfortable silence enveloped the room, punctuated only by the soft sounds of her eating. Caelus, having momentarily put aside the intricacies of their earlier conversation, donned his glasses with measured grace, picking up a book from the stack that lay nearby. 
He settled into his seat, adopting a posture of relaxed elegance, one leg crossed over the other, the book held in his hands. His attention seemed fully absorbed by the pages before him, yet every so often, his gaze drifted away, stealing glances at Medea.
Medea, for her part, was not oblivious to these stolen glances. Mid-bite, she caught one such look, causing her to pause, a piece of pie held in abeyance. Her brow furrowed, a silent question forming in her mind about his actions. Despite the curiosity nagging at her, she decided to dismiss it, focusing instead on the pie before her, allowing the silence to reclaim its dominion over the room.
Eventually, the silence between them grew too loud for Medea to ignore. She swallowed her latest bite of pie, clearing her throat softly before broaching the subject that weighed on her mind. "Is it really alright for me to be here?" she asked, her voice carrying a hint of genuine curiosity mixed with a slight apprehension.
Caelus closed his book with a soft thud, his attention fully on her now. His response was measured, tinged with a hint of amusement at her sudden concern for propriety. 
"If your presence were unwelcome, you would not be sitting here enjoying that pie," he assured her, his tone as calm and collected as ever. With that, he reopened his book, signaling the end of the discussion, yet leaving an unspoken invitation in the air, acknowledging her place in his space for the time being.
Their silent exchange was abruptly halted by a series of knocks at the door, drawing both their attentions toward the unexpected interruption. Caelus, visibly annoyed by the disturbance, let out a sigh of frustration and closed the book he had been perusing with a sense of finality.
He rose from his seat, his movements smooth and deliberate, and made his way to the door. Upon opening it, he was met with the sight of a young girl, no more than ten years of age, donned in a magician's cloak that seemed a tad too large for her small frame. Caelus's gaze softened with curiosity as the girl boldly extended her hand, revealing a small pouch clasped tightly in her grasp.
"I wish for you to take me on as your apprentice," she declared with a confidence that belied her tender years, her eyes gleaming with determination. Caelus, taken aback by her audacity, leaned against the door frame, crossing his arms as he surveyed the pint-sized petitioner before him.
 "And why, pray tell, should I consider such a request?" he inquired, his tone laced with both amusement and intrigue.
The girl, undeterred by his skeptical tone, brandished the pouch she held as though it were a treasure of untold value. "Because I bring you something I believe you need," she asserted with unwavering conviction.
Caelus raised an eyebrow, his interest piqued. "And that would be... the contents of this pouch of gold?" he questioned, a hint of skepticism in his voice. The girl nodded vigorously, certain of her offering's significance.
However, before the conversation could proceed further, Medea, having observed the exchange with a growing sense of amusement, decided to intervene. Stepping gracefully behind Caelus, she peered over his shoulder with a mischievous smile. "This man," she interjected, her voice laced with playful condescension, "is in want of nothing."
The girl's eyes widened in confusion as she shifted her gaze to the new figure. "And who might you be, miss?" she inquired, her voice tinged with a mix of curiosity and awe.
With a soft chuckle, Medea moved to position herself beside Caelus, gracefully lowering herself to the girl's eye level. "I am Medea," she introduced herself, her voice warm and welcoming.
"Medea Falaguerra." Her eyes sparkled with a mixture of kindness and mischief as she awaited the young girl's response, fully aware of the curious turn their afternoon had taken.