[ Lucifer voices it aloud for him, what worry rests in Paimon's mind, and he blinks, stunned. But of course Lucifer knows..... and there's comfort in the fact he does, for Paimon who struggles to express himself and communicate.

He doesn't know who "God" is, though he's heard the word voiced before. He assumes it's someone important, but now isn't the time for asking questions there, when there are more important things to worry about. When Lucifer lifts his chin upwards, the demon swallows, eyes wet and full. He's at once aware of his own broken appearance, how.... feeble he must seem. And yet Lucifer shows him this kindness.... doesn't cringe away from his ugliness, from the weakness of his vessel. From the weakness of him. ]

I can.... choose. [ He repeats quietly, almost like trying on a new shirt, one he's not sure fits him yet. Choice is something that's largely been stripped from him, by those hands that have most recently guided him. The cult had directed him what to do, where to go, whom to manipulate and burn and cut and remove.

But Lucifer's giving him a request, and Paimon's eyelids flutter, something in him breathing to life again. He's still a bit dazed by all of this, but somewhere in him he thinks that of all those who summon and request of him, it's Lucifer's desires he most wants to fulfill. ]

I will. I will help you remind him. I will deliver whatever you require of me. [ A pause, as he thinks on it, as he compares Sam to his own vessel. ]

Does he..... resist you? Is that why he needs tempting?