It was a beautiful spring afternoon. The sun shone warmly, thought a light breeze kept the temperature mild and comfortable. Oraxael smiled - he loved this time of year, this temperature, even if it was far and away from his normal home environment. The thought of the lower levels of hell were enough to remind him, faintly, of the smell of brimstone and the wretched heat, and for a moment, his smile faltered. It returned quickly as he turned the corner, and saw the small cafe that was his destination, Zen's Tea and Coffee. A faded yin-yang symbol adorned the sign, and he chuckled softly to himself. How apropos.
He gave a quick glance in a window as he passed, smoothing his immaculate suit jacket and taking a moment to tousle his hair and admire his appearance. At 6'4", he was tall for a mortal, though his skin color, red, horns and tail removed any doubt that he was one. At least, they would to another Eternal. Mortals couldn't see his true self - depending on their sexual preference, they would see him as either a mortal male, a perfect Adonis (he had actual *been* Adonis, at one point), or a mortal female, tall and stunning, the very image of beauty, a regular Helen of Troy (he had not, however, been Helen. She had been a coworker of his). Satisfied, he walked into the shop, and after exchanging a few flirtations with the hostess, found himself seated at an outside table, beneath the shade of a flowering tree. He inhaled deeply of its aroma - fig? That also made him smile.
The waiter came over, and the look of lust in his eyes was palpable. Oraxael grinned and batted his eyelashes - the work of a lust demon is never done. The waiter asked politely if she would be dining alone, and Oraxael feigned the slightest pout.
"No," he said in his silky baritone (the waiter heard a soft, feminine purr), "I'm expecting a guest today...but maybe later...for now, a pot of tea, Earl Grey, with cream and sugar?"
He winked, and the waiter blushed before hurrying away. Oraxael chuckled again, and leaned back in his chair. He glanced down at his watch, noting the time. Bloody angels. Always late.