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                 I WILL NOT SAY GOODBYE
                               17
                               ___
 "Not what I meant," she grumbles as she runs a hand over her face, both raised for Lucifer after that. "Look, I don't have time for your... Luciferness! Dan and Trixie will be here any minute now and I--" She catches her breath, lowering her hands, up again to tuck damp locks of hair behind her ears, still Devil-heated. "And I'd like you to leave."Â
"No, you don't."
She stares at him. Is he serious? He seems so - convinced that he must stay, no matter what she might say. "I do."Â
"No, that's not what you want," he repeats calmly.Â
She sneers, arms folded over her chest, warmed up to bordering wrath. "Oh because now you know what I want better than I do? Another example of higher perception, is it?"Â
He flinches, like he did yesterday. That's the only likeness. Aside from that, Lucifer's expression is anything but neutral, or warmed-up like hers. In his eyes, she only saw the shy, hesitant innocence. Trixie has the same look. From how he's standing, she deciphers tension, similar to that of the other night. When he wasn't sure what to do, if he wanted to leave or not.
"Not in the least. I just know what I heard." Taking notice of Chloe's puzzled expression, he quickly adds, "You said you missed me last time we-... and so did you last night. I'm just trying to--"
"I said that?" she whispers.
He nods.Â
Chloe's gaze goes back to the bags, the coffees, not so much coffee with the alcohol he poured into them, the bourbon on the table and the Devil...Â
All confused, unsettled Devil after her bitter reaction. He looks down, clears his throat. "I... Apol--"Â
"No," she cuts him off. She shakes her head as he looks up. "Don't," she continues, unable to look him in the eye. "Don't apologize."
The shame she's feeling right now is anything but warm. He was trying.Â
"I'm the one who owes you an apology. I'm sorry, Lucifer… really, I am."
He doesn't react as expected. With 'Luciferness'. "I know." That smile again, back to his devil-self. "You're repeating yourself, Detective."
She smiles, tilts her head to the side for such human blunder. "I need coffee," she confesses. "Alcohol-free, if you have that."Â
Lucifer's face lits up. "I certainly do, even though this would taste like pure blasphemy, Detective. Turns out that I also have equipment to hide your cut from your impressionable spawn's eyes," he adds, brushing a lock of hair off her forehead. Â
She doesn't have time to warm up with his simple, quick touch that he's already handing her a sober, steaming cup. Neither did he notice how it's easy for him to affect her.Â