#righteouslydamned

Time, Time is a concept that doesn't really exist, because for time to exist the own clock needs to tick down. Or well time exists, but it wasn't really felt in heaven. A minute could be a year, or a year just the blink of an eye. Whole species created and dying between breakfast and lunch. And so Lucifer doesn't really have a feeling about time when he slaves away over books full of magic, some written by Metatron, some by Raziel, and some he had gotten from Death or their father himself.

Of course Lucifer wasn't always the nerdy type. Most of the time he rather was down on earth, watching the gigantic reptiles wander over the planet, or he was hanging out with Gabriel who had grown out of the fledgling age now. What didn't change that Lucifer felt close to that sibling, loved the pranks they could pull together.  Then there was Death who still gave violin lessons to Lucifer, even though the archangel had already mastered the instrument he often asked for extra lessons, simply because he enjoyed the time with the horsemen.

And if he wasn't doing that he often was with God, the creator called him quite often to himself. And which angel would not follow the call of God? Especially not when he told you how beautiful you were. That you were his light? Which angel wouldn't like to hear that? All would want it, all wanted it. 

To be honest Lucifer didn't really understand why he was the favorite, personally he thought Michael to be more beautiful, to be more deserving. But he didn't say so, worrying that the attention really would stray away from him in that moment. 

But between all his activities, and even though time was relative and not really a thing, it was still hard to find time for his favorite brother between all the activities, between his own and the others. Of course he still played the violin for Michael, but on some days( or years , like I said it is hard to exactly put a finger down on time in heaven) that was most of the interaction they had. Michael wasn't really one to talk to him, and of course no one to pull pranks, so it sometimes felt like they were drifting apart.  What hurt Lucifer, what hurt his very being like he was split in half himself. But he felt like a bother sometimes, at least towards the stoic archangel. And so it was him waiting for Michael to come to him, waiting, always waiting..

Like today, sitting in his room over his books, rolls and scripts.. he really preferred those over heavy tablets like Metatron thought to be so chic.  He nibbled on the end of his pen, more staring at the symbols and words than actually translating anything when he heard  a knock on the door. Stretching out his grace he instantly knew who it was, a smile appeared on his lips.