Lucifer / Domestic Fluff / Part One?
In your days at RAD, when you and Lucifer began flirting, and all throughout your relationship, you had a sweet little morning routine. Before breakfast, before coffee, before either of you were truly awake; you would fuss with the collar of his shirt, and he would straighten out your bedhead.
You always felt his gaze upon you, as most can. In this instance, however, it wasn't cold and foreboding: this time, it was warm, familiar, welcome.
Most often, when you would look up at him, wanting to see it for yourself, he was already looking away. Occasionally, though, his eyes would linger. His expression was nothing short of reverent and tender; his scarlet eyes, still lax from sleep, fixated on your face, the corners of his lips just barely turned up, his cheeks painted a soft, dusty pink just barely perceptible in the dim morning hours. In his eyes was always the slightest glimmer, one reserved only for you, one that others believed to have disappeared since the Celestial War.
It took one long day and a glass or two—or three, or four—of demonus for him to confess that, when you first began that little routine of yours, his eyes were graced by a tear or two, for the first time in millenia.
A few years came and went, and this morning routine stayed the same, from August to June, every school year, until graduation.
The summer flew by, and school began once again; but, this time, you would not be going.
That first day, something dawned upon the both of you, which you had never thought of before: what would you do with yourselves, if not get ready for classes together?
Time deceived you; summer ended, but autumn never began.
It was pleasant, at first. You had more than enough time to spend waking up at your own pace, getting ready in the quiet solitude of the morning—a welcome change from rushing around, sleep deprived after nights spent studying. A new chapter in your lives has never felt so welcome, so refreshing.
At least, at first.
New jobs, new schedules, it was exciting—truly, it was. Now, though, you mostly saw each other in passing. You managed to squeeze in coffee and a good morning kiss, but responsibilities pulled you away far too soon.
Half a year after graduating and one heart wrenching scandal later, the two of you, few up with all that kept you apart, got engaged, and even moved out. Lucifer stepped down from his position as first consul.
Now unemployed (for the time being, at least), he spends much more time at your new home. With this new chapter, came a new routine.
Mornings are spent waking up in each other's arms to the sound of your soft breaths as they sync, the feeling of soft kisses on your forehead, eyelids, nose, and lips. There is no better alarm than the sound of his low, silken voice murmuring, "Good morning, beloved." The bass of his voice vibrates in his chest and travels through your body like the rumble of thunder rolling through the sky.
When you can't spend the morning in each other's arms, you still try your best to stay close: walking together to brush your teeth and freshen up, holding hands and descending the stairs together, sitting across from one another as you drink your coffee, savoring the serenity of a quiet morning spend together.
Before you leave, you fix his bedhead and smooth out any stray hairs, as he kisses the syrup off your cheek and straightens out your collar and tie.
It's something new, but something familiar. Perhaps, things aren't so different after all.