Harp laughed openly at the demon's strange request. He had been prepared for the worst, so the innocent request had caught him off guard. "Do you really buy hair dye...?" Harp asked playfully. "Hm... I guess your real hair color is black, huh?" 

At that, the angel twisted his fingers in the demon's hair. It was soft and pretty silky. "Hm... Hair dye's not good for you, though." With that, Harp grabbed Bel's hand. "Well, let's go, then!" He said, leading the demon up the staircase. 

Staircases, he thought, were good. They represented moving and change. Without stairs, only those with wings would be able to reach higher places. As such, he was grateful that there was a stone staircase.