Not a single person understood how Cinnabar, the Red Devil of Dolma Lake, and Alessandro Highrose became friends.

As a priest in the service of the twin gods of love, Venus and Libra, Alessandro was the picture of an elegant dandy. His features were handsome, skin kept perfect through oils and expensive creams, and he insisted on bathing in only the finest of perfumed waters. No matter the circumstances, through elaborate care (and extensive magic) Alessandro ensured that his shining ebony hair always flowed perfectly over his shoulders, and over the years, various lovers had described his eyes using terms like 'verdant green' and 'chips of pure emerald glistening in the light.’

He was nothing like Cinnabar, a filthy trash gremlin who buried herself in the same ragged, dark cloth six days out of the week and who'd only reserved the seventh for bathing after her adventuring party resorted to picking her up and routinely throwing her into the nearest lake.

Sandro was blessed and had always been surrounded by beauty; Cinn was a cursed child from a hateful demonic lineage. He healed the sick and spread the tenants of beauty, while she caused sickness with her very touch. And yet, somehow, they sat together at the counter of a humble tavern, Alessandro happily chattering on without care for Cinnabar's silence.

"Just think, by this time tomorrow, there'll be none of this 'getting lost on poorly-trodden woodland paths' business. We'll be on the main road! In actual, respectable inns, with respectable beds and properly clean floors."

"Hm..."

"And then it should only be a week more until we reach the capitol. You've never been, right Cinnabar? There's so very much to see! The Livier Gallery of Art, the Library of Ohm, why, since we'll be going to the palace to report our success, you'll even be able to wander through the famous royal gardens. The crystal trees should be in bloom right now; if that isn't a sight to see, I don't know what is."

"I see..."

Alessandro propped his chin on his hand, watching as the woman beside him nursed her ale. As brainless as Alessandro might occasionally seem to the average observer, one did not become a priest of love without some manner of emotional intelligence, and it didn't take a genius to figure out that Cinnabar might not be having the best time right now.

After all, while lead by the chosen hero Crest, wielder of the Sacred Sword of Radiant Light and yada yada blah blah blah, the heroic party they both claimed membership of had just killed the Lord of All Demons: or, better known to Cinnabar, her own father.

"Copper for your thoughts?" He asked, smiling.

She finally looked at him then, gleaming crimson eyes peeking out from a messy tuft of brilliantly red hair. He really wasn't sure why people thought she was frightening, when she had such a charming, wide-eyed look to her when she was confused.

"Um?"

"I'm asking about what's on your mind."

Alessandro gestured to her over his own drink. After much pestering, he'd been able to wheedle something sweeter, fruitier, and more cloyingly alcoholic out of the barkeep, and he rolled the pink liquid around in the glass before taking a sip.

She dropped her gaze down to the table. "Ah, I see. Well..." She paused again. "I have a question for you, I suppose."

"Oh?" He replied, a perfectly manicured eyebrow lofting upwards.

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"Well, it's more of a request..." she trailed off, fidgeting with the clasp of her cloak. She had gloves on, to prevent any accidental mishaps regarding the poisonous curse on her body, but clipping her claws had become such a nightmare that Alessandro had trimmed little holes for them to poke through.

It made him happy that she still found his modification useful.

"Mhmm?" he prompted.

"Or perhaps it should be called a proposition...?"

"I'm all ears."

"It's hard to figure out how to word it, precisely..."

"Well, take your time."

"Could you teach me about what love is like?"

"Don't worry about — "

There was a beat whereupon Alessandro registered what, exactly, it was that Cinnabar had just said. There was another as he stared.

"What?" He said, as if that would somehow clarify anything about the situation.

It didn't.

"Sorry, that was strange. I shouldn't have said that. It really was just something that I was thinking over, and — " She held up her hands, stuttering meekly, and though her body was turned towards him in her seat, she firmly looked anywhere but at him. "It, it was a joke. I was just messing with you."

Alessandro did not need to point out the obvious fact that Cinnabar had no sense of humor to speak of. She clearly knew how weak her excuse was, and before he could get a word in edgewise, she stood, face flushed dark as she prepared to flee. “ A—Anyway, I'm going to, um, I've got some, business to attend to so...!"

He resisted the urge to catch her by the wrist — he'd learned the hard way that she didn’t much like being touched — but he did stand as well, angling himself between her and the exit.

"So that's why you asked to borrow my shampoo this morning..."

She squeaked, retreating and using the chair to put a shield between him and her. He'd obviously been right on the money.

"Well, giving advice on matters of romance is among my holy duties, though traditionally it's more about couples counseling and teaching horny teenagers how to avoid making bad life choices." He raised his hand to his chin, resting a knuckle on his bottom lip as he leaned in to inspect her. He had a good foot on her to work with, there. "...But I'm going go out on a limb and guess you were suggesting something a bit more intimate."

"G—Go out on a limb...?"

"In this scenario, it means 'to make an assumption'."

"Oh! Um, er..."

From the way she began to fidget, he could tell he'd made another correct guess. How did anyone think she was hard to read? To him, Cinnabar was like an open book.

"So... what prompted you to inquire about those sorts of pleasures, I wonder? I suppose that I am very good looking, and it's been a very long journey of fighting evil and saving the world."

"It's — it's not —"

“I can’t really blame anyone for looking to their party for comfort, especially when we have such a happy couple among our ranks, making everyone aware of what they’re missing…”

“I’m, it’s…”

Alessandro was just about to stop messing with her — he was taking definite amusement in this, but even he had his limits — when she took a deep breath and practically shouted, "It's because you're the only person who can touch me!"

He pulled back, blinking in surprise, and she continued while toying with her sleeve. "I poison everything I come in contact with, and your divine blessing... you can purify toxins. You're the only person I can touch. The only person I've ever been able to touch, and I suppose, I was just... wondering what that kind of thing was like. Relationships. Intimacy. You know?"

Oh, Alessandro thought, his smile curving downward. I'd never really thought about that.

Looking around, he began to notice that her outburst had gathered a good deal of attention from the rest of the bar, including the remainder of their party who'd taken seats on the other end of the room. Crest, their brown-haired heroic poster-boy, had his face in his hands, the newly-rescued Princess Velvet was utterly confused, the beast-knight Chroma was staring, and the elven ranger Sylphie looked about ready to stand up and kill him, which was a bit unfair, he thought, considering he hadn't even started this.

Sighing — and before anyone could interfere — he offered Cinnabar his hand, putting on a smile once more. "Well, I'm happy to discuss it. Perhaps in a more private place? I'm sure these sorts of problems aren't anything you'd want overheard."

"Um, are you sure? Now that I've said it out loud, it sounds ridiculous. And I don't want to trouble you..."

"Nonsense. This is exactly the sort of matter I'm supposed to provide counsel on. Contrary to popular belief, I do take my work quite seriously. Now."

He winked down at her as she gingerly settled her fingers over top of his. "Shall we?"

Cinnabar, blushing fiercely, could only nod.