Way you're acting right now, I think it was just meant to be.

[Scritch scritch scritch; Satan looks pretty amused by Wriothesley's reactions, but equally charmed. Almost as if he's got half a mind to kiss him as he leans over the table a little, making it a double-hander ear scratch. It'd be easy. He has Wriothesley's head in his hands, even if there's no grip so much as sharp fingernails scraping away at sensitive skin.

But he doesn't. Not yet. Just sits there, looking very much like he'd like to.]

Kinda see why Beel likes Naberius so much, to be honest. I just wanna eat you up.