Q. ‘‘ I JUST LIKE SEEING YOU HAPPY. ’’
HE FACES THE HEAVENS, distant beyond a thin veil of blue draped across the newly-born sky, stretched taut and stained with clouds like cotton upon the tapestry. his arms fold beneath his head, which carries a veil of its own : a mask of the once - angelic countenance which now covers something darker, something rotten, cursed, evil, monstrous. ( he is not there, in the yawning pool of anguish, sinking like a cast stone: he is here. he is here. )
the air tastes still of anise and candied fruits, of defiance and genesis, AND OF HER. it is nothing like hell, whose sulphurous surface reeks of death and burns a smog so thick it nearly intoxicates. when he breathes, here, next to her, the breeze is so sweet and clear that it bites at sun - kissed skin, bites at lungs that ache still from a lining of ash and brimstone and falling. he would always make that trade, he thinks : hoarseness in his voice and exhaustion in his limbs for even a second of the warmth of the sun upon his face, a fragment of a divinity he has forsaken. HE WILL BE SUNBURNED IF HE STAYS OUT HERE MUCH LONGER : THE BETRAYAL OF SOLACE TURNED TO WRATH. it will be worth it. he knows he has to leave soon, and he’ll gladly take the remnants of his short - lived emancipation with him through the cavities of perdition, to enshrine a burning warmth that is not empty and torturous.
lucifer turns when she speaks, her voice as lilting and melodic as the birds that sing hymns of paradise. he rolls to his side, so she is seen with the entirety of his vision, no longer stuck in his peripheral, and supports his own head with one hand, taking a moment simply to watch her. there is much that he has sought out to memorialize, from the feel of lush grass like a blanket beneath him to the honeyed syrups of freshly - picked fruit running down his lips. but nothing will he memorize more fervently than her, every second that he can consume, every line of her body ; the affection of her eyes, as dark as the soil of earth itself, the gentle halo curled around her head when sunlight hit brown waves just right. ( her kiss, tasting like fresh rain and spices and sacrilege. )
❝ i like being happy. and i am happy, ❞ he dares to reach out, to press his thumb over her lips and then allow his own to light into a smile, lazy and carefree and languorous, just like every other living thing permitted to exist here. if he lingers too much in the touch, so be it. it will be just another souvenir to carry back home. ❝ i’m happy here. with you. and i’d stay forever with you, if i could, if . . . are you? happy here? ❞
⅋. @villainshe / FROM EVE.