She was heaven on earth to him; an angel granted worldly form come to sooth a damned soul. She was a tan skinned Egyptian goddess in a gracious skirt that swayed around her ankles with hair the color of a raven's plumage but the feel of silk. Her eyes were as azure as the clear midday skies high above the shifting sands of her realm and her voice was harpsichords imprisoned in soft tissue. Her name was Monifa, lucky, and she was every bit the name.


Dameon stroked a few strands of her lengthy bangs behind her elven ears to reveal her gorgeous face, her lips lush and red, pleading for his attention. He cupped her chin in both hands, leaning close until he was nose to nose with her, breathing in the smell of sweet honey.
"You are so beautiful," he whispered, the edges of his mouth turning upward.
Monifa stroked her hands through his auburn hair, removing the tie he bound it with to let the shoulder length mass free. She batted her lashes seductively as she read the expression in his granite eyes.
"And you are color blind," she giggled jokingly.
Dameon took hold of her waist, lifting her high above the ground and swung her to sit on a masonry wall that separated their property from the main street, her skirt billowing until it rested against her shins again. He leaned on his elbows, framing her thighs, looking up into her eyes.
"We have been married for over one hundred years and you still make those jokes? You have no class, m'love," he chuckled as he attacked the cerulean choker she wore in a bow around her throat.
Monifa laughed, pushing his hands away and sitting them on her knees. She smiled.
"It proves I still have my wit around your dry seriousness. You have been around my brother far too long, he has worn off on you."
Dameon smiled, his tail shifting behind him. He nuzzled his head beneath her chin, careful of his horns. Her smile grew as he took hold of her hands, kissing them sweetly.
"Monie, you are my angel. You are the only person whose eyes I can see instead of this damned monotone. You are beautiful, my angel."
Monie leaned down, kissing him softly and swiftly. Dameon chuckled as he stood, pulling himself onto the wall beside her.
"If I am an angel, you must be my devil."
He snickered, "Indeed, mon cher. I am but a lowly gargoyle not worthy of your angelic presence," he bowed his head solemnly.
Monie swatted him playfully on the shoulder just as a chill wind cut through the street, setting her skirts alive. She shivered, turning into the demon as he wrapped his arms around her. Gentle heat began to slip from his right hand, past the white glove, and against her bare shoulder. He used his other hand to run his gloved fingers through her hair soothingly.
"I love you, my angel," he whispered.
Monie replied, "I love you as well, my devil."
Dameon stood, bowing low to his lady, kissing her hand intimately. She blushed, covering her mouth as he trekked toward her shoulder. He released her hand and swept her into his arms.
"I live in heaven when I am with you, without you is pure hell," he whispered.
She smiled, "I live in hell when you leave on slayings."
Dameon smiled and meshed their lips together, basking in the taste of his love.