Jaden didn't say anything as Clara left, thoroughly aware that he had likely screwed the whole conversation right to hell. With a soft sigh, he ran a hand through his hair once more, turning the chair around so that he was facing away from the door. Silence seemed to weigh the room down for sometime, until the sounds of drawers opening and papers shuffling cut through it all. Placing a thick pile of papers to his left and a inkwell to his right, Jaden began to write. He wrote about how he felt, about what he'd been through, about what Clara meant to him, about a good many things that were swirling in his brain. It was a form of meditation, to write out everything that bothered him in as many ways, shapes, and forms as he could think of. It helped him to think and took his mind off the pain and regret that was currently plaguing his heart. Hopefully, one of these writings would be able to help him better reconnect with Clara. To start regaining her trust once more.
[hr]

As Clara set herself down for a night of drink and sorrow, a presence made itself known in her room. A chill running up her spine was the only warning she'd have before it appeared, a vaguely humanoid shadow that towered over her bed, its crimson eyes looking down upon her with shining amusement. She would know who this was before he spoke, it's mere presence would cause familiar stirrings within her core, a warmth that wanted to be heat, heat that wished to be fire, fire that longed to once again become that same raging inferno that had filled her that night.

[color=Gold]"What's the matter, Clara? You seem upset." Asmodeus leaned in closer, a hand reaching out to caress her cheek. If allowed, however, all that would come of it would be a slight, pleasurable chill as it passed straight through her. [color=Gold]"I'm here to listen, if you need me to."[/color]