You woke up in the morning to find yourself in the demon of pride’s bed. It was nice. You’d long-since forgotten about falling back through time, about being an attendant, about having to pretend to be distanced from the brothers.
For a moment, you were yourself, and Lucifer was himself, and you felt safe and loved and secure again.
He wasn’t in the bed, but that wasn’t abnormal for him. You often awoke to him leaving the bed, or having left by carefully ensuring you wouldn’t wake up. Your fingers gently trace the place he once laid. It’s cooler, meaning he’s been gone for a little bit, but you can still find a stray feather here and there amidst the folds of the blankets and sheets. You tenderly grasp the pillow where his head once laid, curling closer to where he once was.
You were shaken from your comfort by a throat-clear from across the room.
You groggily look up to see Lucifer standing in the doorway with two mugs of coffee.
“Care to explain what our attendant was doing last night by climbing into my bed? Might you have been hoping for something.. More?” He smirks, moving to hand you one of the mugs. It’s obvious that he’s riding the high of what he assumes was your tired confession.
And your heart aches, because you so desperately miss your Lucifer. The Lucifer who knows that this isn’t the way you take your coffee, and it certainly isn’t your favorite way to start the morning. The Lucifer who would climb back into bed with you, whose pride was always left at the door when you two were alone. The Lucifer who knew you, and knew that you knew him.
Your eyes grow sad at his question. He’s astute at reading the room, so he leans back against his dresser opposite of you to watch you. He still doesn’t know you well enough to make assumptions, and when you don’t give him reactions he expects, it makes it all the more obvious to him.
“.. I’m sorry, I.. mistook you for someone I knew.”
“... That’s hardly a mistake people make often.”
“... I apologize.” You begin getting up, setting the coffee he gave you to the side, not even taking a sip. He notices this, and feels a pang in his heart as he realizes that his offering wasn’t even something that interested you.
Competition isn’t a problem to him, but to think that he can’t even reach you scares him more than he’d like to admit.
“.. Please, don’t apologize. It was nice. I enjoyed your company. Maybe next time, you’ll be able to share it with me while knowing it’s me.” He smiles warmly, masking the pain under a suave demeanor. Even if your heart belongs to someone else, he’s made up his mind that he wants it.
“I don’t think so, but thank you for the offer.” You begin straightening your clothes.
“Well, for you, my door is open. If you change your mind, just ask.”
And with that, you leave.
You leave the demon in a turmoil of emotions. Your heart already yearns for someone. Who is it? Why aren’t you two together anymore? There’s so much about you shrouded in mystery, and he needs to know why you mistook him for this.. Unknown, undisclosed person.
You return to your work as the brothers’ attendant, but Lucifer can hardly focus the rest of the week.
Who in all the three realms could you have loved so much as to look at them with the eyes you looked at him with in your sleepy haze?
And why does his heart feel like it’s bleeding?
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