Lo Writes Things

“Detective, I– I’m sorry, did I wake you?”

The subtle strain in his voice made her sit up straighter immediately, wiped the smile from her face.

“No, Lucifer, you didn’t actually. I was just going to– Nevermind. Is something wrong?“

“No, well– Yes. Detective, I– I need to talk to you. And I know you have no desire to see me right now, and I understand, I do, and it’s the middle of the night, I know, but I– I just need to.”

His voice broke on his last words, and his obvious despair made her stomach twist. Had she done this?

“Okay, Lucifer, it’s alright. I’m here, I’m listening.”

A shaky breath on the other end of the line, then another.

“Detective, first of all, I’m so sorry for what you have to go through. Because of me, again. That bastard Michael, and now this… I’m sorry, Detective. I wish it weren’t so.”

She wanted to interject something, anything to stop the pain that bled through his voice, but he was talking too fast.

“When I first found out about it, we had just gotten together for the first time. It– It crushed me. And it led me to do things that hurt you very badly, and I’m so sorry for those, too. I hope I’ll have the chance to properly explain, one day.”

He’d found out after– Wait, what things? Vegas? Candy?!

“But, Detective… I know I have no right to complain, and please know I would go back to Hell again in a heartbeat if it meant I was ensuring your safety, but– Chloe. I’ve missed you. So much. Being in Hell felt… different after knowing you. Too lonely.”

She could barely make out those last words, and something in her chest constricted. He’d never sounded so distressed and forlorn before. She was well aware he’d never show that much weakness to anyone else.

Amenadiel was right. She didn’t see her desires reflected in Lucifer, she didn’t see some perfect guy that she was inexplicably compelled to adore, she just saw him. An imperfect, hurting, deeply scarred, unspeakably beautiful soul that had somehow found its mate in hers.

And she wouldn’t, couldn’t hold what his Dad had done against him. After all, Trixie only existed because of God’s intervention. Her daughter lived because she lived. That alone made all the craziness worth it.

That, and that she was stupidly in love with the angel currently on the verge of breaking down on the other end of the line.

“And Detective, I– I know this is not what you want, and I shouldn’t say it, and not on the phone like this, and I’m– I’m screwing this up again, but I– Chloe. I love you. I’ve been in love with you for years. Thousands of years, if you count Hell. I love you, and I don’t think I’ll ever stop loving you. And you’ll never have to see me again if that’s what you want, but I just needed to say it. Even if I already blew my chance. I love you, Chloe.”

He was silent after that, and her heart just about stopped.

Lucifer loved her.

He loved her, and she loved him. Nothing else in this literally god-forsaken world mattered, and she had to tell him immediately.

“Lucifer?”

“Yes, Detective?”

“Would you mind coming over or–“

WHOOSH

Ah yes, wings. She’d really have to get used to angelic modes of transportation. She could just make out his silhouette behind her front door, and felt a pang when he didn’t enter unprompted. She pushed the feeling down and crossed over to let him in, and there he was.

He looked at lot like he’d sounded, hair dishevelled, suit jacket and vest gone, chest heaving, wings a glowing, shivering mass behind him. She blinked, and they were gone.

“Detective?”

“Lucifer. Don’t you want to barge in like you own the place?”

He frowned in the way she found terribly endearing, but made no move to come in.

“Oh for… Come in, please. Do you want some wine?”

Finally, he strode past her, stopping in the open space between her kitchen and her couch, as rigid and tense as she’d ever seen him. He turned to stare at her, raking his shaking hands through his hair, and suddenly she was reminded of a meeting in an interrogation room several celestial disasters ago.

“No, Detective, I don’t want wine. I– Forgive me. What are we doing here?”

He was terrified of what she’d do, what she’d say. Terrified she’d send him away for good. She shouldn’t have that power over him, over the Devil. Nobody should have that power over anyone, but it seemed like they were long past that.

Oh, Lucifer.

She quickly erased the distance between them and clasped his hands in hers, heart aching at the way he looked at her. Like his life depended on the words she’d say next. Maybe it did.

“Lucifer. Amenadiel came up with some interesting theories during our case.”

A snort.

“Did he, now?”

“Lucifer… You saw how that nun fawned over him. They were all like that. Just how regular people fawn over you.”

“So… Nuns have the hots for my brother? Good for him, I guess, but I don’t see what that has to do with u– With me.“

Another frown.

“Amenadiel thinks they saw their love for God in him, reflected back at them. And he thinks that… When everyone else looks at you and fawns over you, you reflect their desires back at them.”

“That’s… Where are you going with this, Detective?”

He loves you, and you love him. Courage, Decker.

“I don’t see that. I don’t see my desires reflected back at me when I look at you, Lucifer. I just see you. So, I– I don’t think that explains everything, and I can’t promise I won’t freak out again, but I– I trust that what I feel is real again. Lucifer, I love you, and I’m tired of things getting between us, tired of missing chances. We might never know what all this actually means, but… I don’t want anything to come between us, ever again. From now on, whatever it is, I want to face it with you. Together.”

The most radiant of smiles transformed his features, and she leaned in quickly to taste his happiness and kiss it off his lips. For a second, he remained stiff and shell-shocked, but then he opened up to her kiss, wrapping his arms around her tightly. The smallest sigh escaped him, and she rose on her tiptoes to get closer to him, resting her hands at the nape of his neck.

When she felt like it was possible to stop kissing him, she rested his forehead against his, eyes still closed, mouth stretched wide in an effervescent grin.

“You know, I never wanted Amenadiel to be right quite so badly, Detective.”

She opened her eyes in time with him, and he hid not one thing in the warm, dark brown of his eyes.

“Well, he was right before, wasn’t he?”

He huffed, then sobered a little, and pulled her even closer to him.

“Detective, I… I thought I’d lost you.”

Her heart beat erratically, and she needed to reassure herself as much as she needed to reassure him. Because they had lost each other one too many times before, had come close to missing another chance, yet again. But not this time.

“Never again, Lucifer. I meant it.”

She cradled his face in her hand, and he leaned into her touch, closing his eyes immediately. Instead of replying, he just exhaled tremulously, and Chloe brought her other hand up to touch his face as well.

“Chloe, will you just hold me for a little while?”

His voice was brittle and cracking, and her heart constricted once more. How many years did he have to survive without a single kind touch?

She embraced him as tight as she could, pressed a kiss onto his neck just to feel him shiver, and stroked his hair and his cheek, over his back and down his arms, and again, until he all but melted under her caress.

“Forever, Lucifer.”

He pulled back to search her eyes with his, opening and closing his mouth, seemingly unable to find any words. After a few seconds, he gave up, simply cradling her face in both his hands with the lightest of touches, smiling beatifically at her.

“Chloe.”