"Don't you think I've made enough deals with the devil?" "You can't refuse this one," his eyes gleam, teeth flashing in a grin. "Hope I don't have to cut my hand to seal this deal," I mutter, making his smile wider. "I stopped doing that in the late 20th century. You know, the HIV epidemic changed even hell's policy." "Our world doesn't deserve fallen angels who are so aware and informed." I press my hand lightly to his, agreeing to the game. I'm not sure if it's choice or necessity that drives me but maybe it's both.
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