It smelled like blood and fire. Whoever said that demons smelled like brimstone didn't know what they were talking about. In fact, I wouldn't even know he was a demon if he hadn't just told me. Only the smell would have given it away, and not everyone can even smell it. If I kissed him right now it wouls taste the same, burning metals on my tongue. Memories stir and I stare up into eyes that were oh so red a moment before, but as he solidifies in this place they fade and soften into a far more human green. Cats' eyes are green, a man's eyes aren't. You know that a demon doesn't say thank you, it sounds far too mundane and yet spouting biblical nonsense isn't their style either. Just like everyone else in the spiritual world, this one seemed to be trying to shake of the stigma of what he was. Demons don't belong in polite, twenty-first century society. Though he's going to try.... and I invited him. Damn it. No, he says, it's too late for that. You have already damned yourself.
Hmm.... this may turn into more.... we shall see.