he apologizes so much. is this to make up for before? can he make that up? it feels uncomfortable, in a way. he shouldn’t have to this much, shouldn’t have to feel as if he were the only one who did anything at all, and every apology feels like a spear splintered apart in his chest. like the splinters move further in with each one. but it still brings relief, whenever he mentions that sandalphon is.. more than he ever assumed after everything that transpired.
and for some reason it’s embarrassing when he says that — he feels his face flush, but he doesn’t look away. he hopes he’s not making an expression that would hint to this. his purpose should have been him, too. it could have been. it could be. they have this place now, wherever in the skies it is, maybe it could be another chance. he’s certain more people know his face by now than lucifer’s, so the probability that someone would recognize him before him is… slim. not unless they were another primal, most likely.
“Selfish? You?” when has he ever been? maybe if he had been more, they wouldn’t be here. maybe, but… “I want you to be.” it’s blunt enough, “I want you to do what you want — what you want. Not what is expected of you. Not what you feel like you should do.” he feels, honestly, a little frustrated that he hasn’t before. he knows why.
and if lucifer understood how he felt now, that’s the most anyone ever has before.
his hands raise an inch, but don’t budge more than that. he doesn’t believe lucifer deserved what happened, either. not anymore. even if he didn’t do anything, anything to prevent it, anything to stop it, how could he have known? sandalphon’s never reacted that way before. it was unanticipated, he’s certain of this, it’s explicitly why he did it — because it wasn’t expected of him.
he continues to speak, and the more he lets him go on the more he realizes just how guilty he must feel. but, of course he does. of course he cared about him. of course if there were anyone in the world that he should have been able to count on, it should have been him. he chose not to, and that’s not lucifer’s fault.
and then his hands raise the rest of the way, brushing along lucifer’s face, along some of the tears, bringing his face into his palms; and he doesn’t feel anything except… sympathy.
and he simply says, “I want that.” he wants lucifer to understand, too; that he doesn’t need to hold all of the blame. he doesn’t need to be the sole one to carry the burden of it, “You did what you were able to. There’s little to be done about events from the past but, there’s the future that lies beyond the horizon.” he brushes away another falling tear with his thumb, “There’s plenty of time to make up for everything. Please allow me to relieve some of your burden, Lucifer-sama.”
Could he? After all this time, after the mistakes Lucifer had made, the reluctance to reach out, to say what was needed, what was felt so strongly between them --- could he? Sandalphon was emotional. He always had been, and Lucifer wouldn’t have had it any other way. To be able to learn from him, to enjoy his time with him... it all feels like a far-fetched dream; something the Skydweller’s would talk about. Lucifer was aware of his own feelings now. He was aware of the words he’d been keeping to himself, in fear that he’d only hinder Sandalphon.
After all, it was his punishment to bear.
His plan had always been to watch over Sandalphon. To see him thrive and flourish, to see him advance and prosper in what he loved doing most. These skies weren’t theirs, no, but there was surprisingly some peace felt with that fact. Lucifer felt selfish to admit that he’d wanted, more than anything, than to rest with him. Had he known the feeling sooner --- to allow himself to wish and feel beyond what he’d been instructed --- perhaps he would have spoken up about Sandalphon. Because he felt it ... he felt Sandalphon’s weight, he soaked in his pain like a sponge.
When Sandalphon reached forward to brush along his face, it was as though the very foundation Lucifer stood upon caved. As though he’d finally teared himself free of the countless fears which clung to him. When Sandalphon made the move to touch his face, Lucifer relented, leaning into his touch, his eyes closed, more of a soundless peace in the place of agony. Was this alright? Would Sandalphon mind? Lucifer was stiff in his movement still, holding himself stern, but his head lulled to the side slightly, shedding less tears. Emotions were a foreign thing, and, Lucifer thought, they always would be. But he didn’t mind to let himself go before Sandalphon. He allowed himself not to mind at all.
“Forgive me,” Lucifer said again. “I ... I find solace again in what you give me.” Whether it were words of encouragement, or something as simple yet delicate as brushing away a tear, Lucifer felt grateful. “I have shown you the state that I am. I’m sure it is a sorry sight.” The previous guardian of the skies, the overseer, the ruler, reduced to this. There was an old fear still apparent in the cracks of his bones, but Lucifer ignored it. He pushed his restraint aside in favour to indulge ... just this once. With his voice barely above a whisper, Lucifer said: “If that is what you want, then....”
He owed him that much. He reached his own hand up to cup Sandalphon’s cheek, as though owing a favour, something prolonged, but still carrying the weight the warmth he felt. “To relieve some of my burden....” Lucifer opened his eyes. He was smiling now. “I... all I want is.. to remain by your side.” He couldn’t let himself become too selfish. He was bargaining with fate. He mimicked Sandalphon’s movement, his finger smoothing gently under Sandalphon’s eye. “If you’ll allow me, that is. I admit that it.. I couldn’t bear the feeling not to have you see me.” As if in turn, Lucifer shed the same light. It was a reflection of Sandalphon’s pain, almost. Just like waiting in the shaded garden in his stead. “That’s what I want. More than anything.”
