You're always frustrated, dear. Your temper is legendary. Other demons quake at the mere mention of it." He smiles slightly. "I remember when you were little, and you would build block towers. You would stack them so tall, taller than your head, and then be furious when they weren't perfectly aligned, or they fell. I would have to rebuild them. You are a perfectionist and demand the best in yourself and others."
"I am, huh?" I echo. "Well, being a perfectionist is a bitch. My expectations are never met. Look at my life, Sam: it's in ruins. A starving artist with an expensive college degree. No one will exhibit my artwork, on Earth anyways, your office be damned. My career as a painter is frozen like the lowest circle of Hell."
"No, Shannon," he says, voice fierce. "Your life has only just begun. Paint what you want. In truth, you are my queen. You belong by my side ruling with me, my tithe."
