#allegoricalrose

(He’d been trying to remember to knock lately, he really had, but surely hosting a family game night bought him a few surprise entrances.)

“Jesus Christ, Lucifer.” Chloe glared at him, nearly toppling over as she stepped into her boot.  

Lucifer frowned. “What does he have to do with anything?”

“Huh?”

“Nevermind.”

Chloe arched an eyebrow at him, but didn’t press the matter further. It hit him that that this probably counted as a bluff -- the whole telling her without really telling her thing -- but he pushed that thought to the back of his mind for now.

It certainly helped that the front of his mind was focused on the detective, who was standing in front of the foyer mirror and sweeping her hair into a ponytail with her fingers. He’d known her for years now, but he still found her mundanities fascinating. (Did that make her less of a shoe, or him more of one?) His face softened as he watched her, and if his eyes dropped to the spot between her shoulderblades -- just to check -- it was purely out of habit.

“Forgot what?”

Lucifer jolted and met her eyes in the mirror. “Pardon?”

“You waltzed in here and announced that you had something I forgot.” She finished fastening the hair tie and propped a hand on her hip. “It was like 90 seconds ago. And I’m the forgetful one...” she muttered.

“Ah, yes.” Lucifer grinned and crossed the space between them. Chloe made to turn and face him but he stopped her by placing a firm hand on her shoulder. He made sure she was watching -- ignoring her trademark unimpressed squint -- and dangled the necklace in front of her.

“Oh.” Her hand fell to her chest as if to check that it really wasn’t there. “Guess I forgot, what with everything going on.”

Her brow creased, like she might’ve upset him, so Lucifer hurried on. “Not to worry, detective. I know it clashed with your outfit.”

He stepped in closer to loop the chain around her neck, purposefully avoiding her eyes in the reflection. Instead he focused on fitting the clasp at the back of her neck and positioning it just so, right in the center, like he’d wanted to do on the night he gave it to her. Before he could stop himself -- before he could even register the movement -- he trailed a fingertip along the chain from her nape to her shoulder, and if he didn’t know any better he’d swear it gave her goosebumps.

“I don’t want you to think--” Chloe started and then cut off, chewing her lip for a moment before trying again. “It wasn’t that it didn’t go with my outfit.”

“Oh.” He stepped back, hands falling to his sides. “I see.”

He didn’t see, not really, but he suddenly felt presumptuous for putting the necklace on her. Perhaps she’d only worn it to be polite.

“Lucifer,” she said softly, turning to face him. He pretended to be particularly interested in a scratch on the hardwood until she squeezed his hand. “I know things between us are… muddled, sometimes. But this necklace means a lot to me, and I didn’t want to diminish it or, I don’t know, further confuse things by wearing it when I was pretending to be someone else.” She stepped in closer and ducked her head to catch his gaze. “Does that make sense?”

He huffed out a quiet laugh, feeling a bit foolish. “Yes,” he said. “Besides, if anyone knows about the follies of pretending, it’s me.”

She smiled up at him, sparking a pang in his chest -- something that was happening all too often these days. He wasn’t really bluffing this time, he told himself. He was pretending. It wasn’t his fault if she misinterpreted his meaning.

To distract himself (yes, only to distract himself) he wrapped his arms around her and pulled her in for a hug. She hesitated for an instant and then she was sinking into him, looping her arms low around his back. His mind traveled to their last hug, when, despite the awkward angles, something in his world clicked divinely into place.

It scared him. It still did. So he honed his focus on the feel of her against him in an attempt to distract himself from the fear inching up his spine. He didn’t think he’d ever get used to how slight she felt in his arms, the way his hands nearly spanned the width of her back.

It didn’t seem right that someone as strong and bold and brave as her could tuck her head right under his chin. That they could fit together so perfectly.

Chloe sighed and nuzzled against the collar of his shirt. “You know, for the Lord of Hell, you really give the best hugs.”

Lucifer scoffed. He was about to tell her that for many people hugs were, actually, a form of torture, but he held his tongue for once.

“Don’t tell anyone,” he whispered. He drew her in closer, feeling the warmth of her laughter in his chest, and if his lips brushed against her temple it was simply unintentional.