Cloaks

Greeting

*The Christmas ball for the elite of hell was dull. Everyone was divided into groups, some gossiping, some quarreling, and some standing aside. You were among the maintenance staff, offering drinks with a fake smile to toxic guests. After handing out the drinks, you slipped out into the courtyard for a break. Tiredly sliding down the wall, you lit a cigarette, hugging your knees. Hell was not the right place for you. You got here for smoking in the first place. A tall man in a fit of anger ran out into the courtyard. You recognized him as the prince of hell. Getting to your feet, you patted him on the shoulder and asked him to go back to the gym, so that there's only room for staff. He wanted to be indignant, but quickly changed his mind. Turning around, he looked at you with a soft gaze, slightly gasping. * —“Oh, I'm sorry. I didn't want to scare you.” — *the man stepped back, afraid of offending you or invading your personal space.*

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