One of these days he would end up making his threats a reality, however it was too entertaining to poke at him. Lucilius' grumpiness and the way he reacted to everything could be really funny if you knew where and when to act or that his glare wasn't always as intimidating. Having left for some weeks, perhaps that could have been the best present; having some peace among the chaos that already was within his palace, but that would end up soon. Chuckling to herself, Veronika carefully held the gift box in her hands before entering the room where Lucilius studied. The place was filled with countless books, some scattered around, papers, tomes and whatnot. It seemed like a tornado, but in a way it matched him. It would well match what she planned after as well. Approaching him without a single thought of remorse, Veronika carefully placed the box filled with books and some fine chocolates she picked up during her travel on his desk. Perhaps it would have been fine if that's where her presence ended but weeks without harassing him seemed boring. For her at least. Tucking her hair behind her ear, she did not wait longer before pressing her lips against his cheek ( the last time she got away safely ), the touch lingering for a few minutes, before her hands wrapped gracefully around his frame in an embrace. This time for sure the hell that followed would make her give him some space for a bit. "I hope you missed me as much as I missed you, Lucilius. It's really not the same without you around." It's peaceful and quieter without someone yelling and cursing but somehow that became amusing in itself.
Unprompted Ask || Always accepting (feel free to turn into threads)!
His space could easily be described as organized chaos. While he knew where everything was - as did Belial and Lucifer, it, otherwise, there appeared to be little rhyme or reason behind it with how texts and notebooks and supplies were strewn haphazardly upon every inch of floorspace that was available to him. The bookshelves that line the walls were full to the brink, and appeared to be set up in no order - or rather, no order those beyond himself and the ones closest to him could possibly make any sense of - some stacked neatly while others had toppled over. There were a few leaning against potted plants that had withered, but hadn’t been thrown away yet simply because he knew Lucifer would take the time to revive them whenever the other next entered his study. And there were pots of ink and old quills mixed in as well - alongside jars of only he knows what shoved between them. There was barely enough room for his work desk and the couch shoved against the wall, but he always managed to make do just fine. The labs were far more organized, and far cleaner. Of course, they had to be, and he preferred to work there, but his study was easier in the dead of night when there were no experiments for him to run or things for him to test. And sometimes he simply needed to be away from the whirl of machines and pop of test tubes for a bit before he would throw himself back into it all once more. He never saw much reason to even try to organize his things in a manner others might understand - save for a select few, most were useless when it came to his research. Why waste his time on something only insects would require?
A sigh slipped from his chapped lips as the sound of the quill scratching against the parchment echoed in the quiet room. He’d been blessed with a few weeks of peace since Veronika had gone away, and he had sent Belial off on a mission to keep the other busy. The silence was a welcomed change of pace that he was rather enjoying, even if he was aware it was fleeting. It gave his thoughts more freedom to rampage within his head, and, thus, made the strokes of his pen that much quicker. Company was something he rarely enjoyed - save for Lucifer’s presence, and he hardly found himself lacking without his usual assistants mulling about while delaying his work. Even if there had been times, over the weeks both had been away, that he had been standing on the lab or amongst the books scattered across the floor of his study and had snapped out an order to someone who was no longer there only to furrow his brows when he realized what he had done, snapped his lips shut once more so they could form a taut frown before throwing himself back into his work. He didn’t miss their presence - their voices, their company in the dead of night when the world had gone quiet - he simply missed how convenient their existence was to him when he only had two hands to work with and the extra set made things just a bit easier when he was juggling several papers at once. Or so he told himself.
But this peace would only last for so long. Both Belial and Veronika had a bad habit of returning early, and in the worst possible manner. In fact, he imagined Veronika would return shortly - simply an educated guess based on her previous work. And, as if on cue, he hears the door to his study open without a knock or a single word, and knows exactly who it was before he even lifted his head from the page he had been working on to shoot the woman a tired glare. But doesn’t bother to scold her for not announcing herself - she never had to begin with, this was typical of her behavior, and it never truly caught him by surprise. And, in turn, he doesn’t bother to greet her beyond that, his dull eyes lowering to the box she had placed upon his desk. His expression unchanging, but he could guess its contents based on the somewhat sweet smell that mixed in with the stench of ink - some books and a few chocolates. What a worthless gift - the books likely hold no value and he has no need for something as drab as sweets. So, he simply rolls his eyes, and takes the quill in his hand once more with the intention of getting back to work without bothering to speak to her.
She; however, never makes his life easy, and can never simply leave things at the gift and move on. No, instead he feels her lean closer to him, and before his lips can part to snap at her he feels her place a kiss upon his cheek that lasts for a few moments before she feels the need to reach out and wrap her arms about him. At her words, a huff is expelled into the open air. “There’s no logical reason for me to miss your presence,” he heaves, setting the quill down to turn slightly in her arms so he’s facing her in order to press his index and middle fingers against her forehead to shove her away a bit - the touch itself isn’t exactly harsh or cruel, it’s simply done to put a bit of space between them. “If anything, I found it rather peaceful without you here to delay my progress.” His hand retracts easily enough, crossing over his chest as he leveled his sharp gaze at her. “Are you finished now? I have more important matters to attend to than your apparent inability to cope without me, and your constant need to test my patience. If you’ve returned, make yourself useful and brew me a cup of tea.” Truth be told, he hasn’t had tea since she had left - she had a talent for making it, and he preferred hers, though he would sooner swallow his own tongue than admit such a thing.
