Oh, a complicated one, he likes those. With the wealth of complicated and serious blonde women in his life, Lucifer shouldn't be in dire need of another and yet, he stares after her with interested delight, reaching for one of said blankets from the front closet in order to drape it over himself, Julius Caesar style.

"Bold of you to assume I wouldn't like that," he replies cheerfully, even as he flips the last bit of blanket over his shoulder to evoke the true toga form. All he's missing is a red cup and a laurel wreath and he'd be every frat boy's god. "You know, some women would beg me to strip naked for them. You're oddly uncaring. Has it been that long of a winter?"