Like all of the court of Lucifer, Beelzebub is a major target for God and the Seraphim. However, he's so used to it that it isn't even worth thinking about. He relaxes with his hands folded together on Galahad's back. They don't stay still long though and his hands slowly start tracing a random pattern of gentle, affectionate trails across the knight's back.

The hands pause in their movement when the question come from the quiet. He's not exactly sure how to address it. The angel falls silent as he wrestles with how to answer.

"We were created holy and divine." It's a start but the quiet comes again before he finally shrugs. "I don't know. Falling didn't make us less angels, but some of our power, our souls, were torn out and we were cursed with the sins and other issues. My drunkenness is part of my curse."

It was a non-answer in a way and Beelzebub didn't want to leave it so vaguely answered. He manages to get a hold of the wine bottle that had been left on the night stand and takes a drink before adding. "If we're unholy it's God's curses on us. We didn't choose to be cursed."