Always Something Underneath
Chapter 3 - Sips of Chamomile
Lucifer x Fem!reader (prostitute character w/ accent)
Content warning: slow burn, writing an accent, quick proofread, reader death, reader revival, choking,
Chapter Summary: Always having done what you need to survive and get ahead, you take a job that has a lingering consequences. While trying to recover though, Lucifer notices.
Word Count: 3443
Chapter 1 𖤐 Chapter 2 𖤐 Chapter 3 (You are Here) 𖤐 Chapter 4 𖤐 Chapter 5 (WIP)
Dieing was awful. You knew that. Death had taken you, both willingly and maliciously, a multitude of different ways since you had plunged yourself into the depths of hell. It had just been so long since you had died last, your memory had somehow forgotten or glossed over just how taxing it was; the exhaustion -physically and mentally-, the adrenaline crash leaving every limb involuntarily shaking, not to mention the painful healing process. The painstaking and searing rebuilding of your body. The scorching brand of your sinner status.
Your neck ached from holding up your head up, the ring of bruising hardly the worst of your pain. The slightest swallow unleashed a burning sensation that cascaded up towards your jaw and simultaneously down into your torso. Each breath harrowing despite it being shallow, your stenosed trachea screaming at every intake. The slightest movement, jerk, or muscle contraction evoking excruciating consequences.
The pay was worth it. A weeks worth of clients covered by a single death. A price worth the prize. At least, that was what you told yourself. Over. And over. And over.
Who were you kidding?
It was unequivocally a boon that was insufficiently compensated by the price.
Your feet dragged as you marched onwards. The usual clack of your heels now a scraping, not that anyone cast you a second glance. Vigilantly, you surveyed your path alert for other hotel residents. The arduous task of having to dance around a conversation without your voice, draining you at just the thought. Explaining the experience you just endured, let alone why, wasn’t something you were equipped to even muddle through at the moment.
As the hotel came into view, your body relaxed a little. The thought of climbing into your bed, caccooning yourself in your favorite blanket, and passing out again kept your feet moving. You choked up at the sense of safety you knew you would find which sent a ripple of pain through you.
You just had to make it through the lobby.
Carefully, you wrapped a semi-sheer scarf around your throat as you walked towards home to mask the black and blue remnants of your work; tight enough it wouldn’t slump down but loose enough it wasn’t inflicting further pain on you. A pair of sunglasses in addition to it to hide your sunken, pale eyes that hadn’t yet recovered from your revival. You fixed the rest of your attire to make it less apparent you hadn’t dressed in a flurry, finishing just as you approached the door.
You stopped and took a quick, agonizing breath before pushing it open as slowly and quietly as you could. Thankfully, the boisterous crew over at the bar hadn’t spotted you as you let the door close with a soft ‘thunk’. You bee lined for the stairs. Someone hollered your name out as you strode with intent, which you figured would happen since you had gotten into the habit of having a drink when you got off work, but you quickly dismissed it with a polite wave as you kept moving. You heard your name once more in fading volume as you ascended the stairs, thankful that it didn’t seem like they were chasing after you.
Of course, who would have? Never in your life or afterlife would have never thought you’d be thankful for that.
Your speed didn’t waver once you were past the lobby and only as you stood in front of your door did it force you to stop. Your hands adeptly retrieving your keys and unlocking the gate to refuge. You nearly fell over as the door unlocked and hastily relented to your demand for entry. As the door lurched inwards, the effort to save yourself falling resulted in a seizing pain as your head lulled and the neck muscles flexed out of reflex. Your mouth opened for a soundless scream as tears prickled your eyes. The reaction itself further inflicting a second bout of agony. You kicked your heels off and slammed the door closed.
In a flurry you undressed, bearing the shooting pain before crawling into bed with your phone in hand and curling up in your blankets. You began fiddling with the pillow which took some time. Finding a comfortable position that supported yet didn’t over extend the neck turned out to be quite the conundrum. Not impossible though. Once you had finally found a tolerable way to lay, your body began to unwind. Your eyes grew heavy as the tension eased from you, exhaustion lapping at your consciousness. Beckoning you to slumber and you eagerly obeyed, your eyes drifting shut before slipping into oblivion.
𖤐
The awakening that greeted you the next morning was arduous. Your body heavy with fatigue with your aching throat screaming for relief while your stomach simultaneously twisted and turned, tearing at your gut in protest of the unintentional fasting you had inflicted upon yourself. You emitted a whimper at the ailments foisted upon you first thing. The parched throat and exhaustion were things you could have turned a blind eye on in lue of returning to your slumber. Your stomach’s fit was far too much to bare.
Carefully, you tested how your throat reacted with a tentative swallow. It protested with a burning sensation but, it wasn’t as horrendous as it had been the day prior. The next test was a slow turning of your head. It was intensely stiff and it shot the sensation of pins and needles across your shoulders and upper back but, it didn’t reduce you to tears. You took a tentative deep breath, or two, before you pushed yourself up. You took pause, closing your eyes to determine the damage; feeling the aches and pains. Every infliction.
You could make it to the kitchen and back as you were. Slowly you hoisted yourself up and fetched a loose dress and another scarf from your closet, dawning them both before beginning your quest.
It still seemed to be early morning. The hotel eerily quiet with it’s occupants still slumbering from their late nights. Except for Niffty. You could hear her giggling somewhere in the distance, likely roach hunting, which made the haunting stillness all the more foreboding. With a quickened pace, you found yourself in the kitchen rather quickly. Niffty’s giggles barely audible now which eased some of your tension.
Boiling water for a chamomile tea the first task you set about before turning your attention to determining what you should eat. Scouring the cupboards and fridge, the only tolerable foods seemed to be applesauce, Nilla wafers which you figured could soak in your tea, or maybe ramen if you overcooked the noodles. None of it sounded appealing. As your stomach raged, you decided a little bit of applesauce and wafers would do though.
The assemblage of wafers on a small plate and applesauce in a bowel came together just as the water started boiling. A flick of the wrist turned off the stove and as you sought out the mug you wanted. Like nails on a chalkboard you heard from behind you, “Goooood morning. Please grab me a mug as well.”
A glance over your shoulder revealed Lucifer waltzing into the kitchen already made up for his day. His eyes bright with his practiced smile gracing his lips. As if he had already been awake for hours.
Fuck.
You hummed out a soft ‘mhm,’ to at least acknowledge him as you pulled a second mug out and turned away from him to grab a teabag. You paused a moment, glancing back at him after feeling his eyes boring into you, finding him doing just that. Normally you would already offered a good morning and would have asked if he was having tea but, you hadn’t tested your voice yet and were, admittedly, a little afraid to. You quickly tried to recall how long had it taken last time to get your voice back; as if you really could remember.
Rather, you held up the bag of chamomile tea in your hand at him. He blinked a second and shook his head, “Oh no thank you. I’m more of a black tea drinker myself.”
You quickly smiled and nodded at him, grabbing an earl gray tea bag to hand off. His brows knitted together as you turned back to your own tea and quickly combined the bag and water before turning to him and putting water into his mug, leaving him to unwrap and soak how own.
“You’re awfully quiet this morning.”
You laughed softly at your situation, though it worked for his comment as well you supposed, realizing the afterlife wasn’t going to cut you another break. No, your luck had run out yesterday with getting through the lobby. Carefully, you blew on your basically still just hot water and took a small sip before clearing your throat to respond in a raspy, forced crackle, “Yeah, well, jus’ dealin’ with a lil’ som’in.”
Lucifer’s face contorted; brows pinched painfully tight together, his frown slanted asymmetrically making his eye squint, as his head tilted. You couldn’t stop another soft giggle from burbling up, the expression tickled you. At least until his eyes flitted down to your scarf and the expression slid from his face.
In your hurry to appease your stomach’s tantrum, the scarf hadn’t been as well secured as you had thought. During your journey, it had slid down just enough to reveal a small band of bruising. He took a second to process the glimpse he caught before his eyes shot up; pupils dilated making him look a little crazed. “Are you okay? What happened? Was it one of the people you saw at work?” The words flooded out, frantic and panicked.
Quickly, you held up a hand, promptly halting any further grilling. “Nawt… here. Please.”
You pick up your plate and tilted your head towards the door, beckoning him to follow, before you made your way towards one of the many parlor rooms Charlie had designated for groups or social gatherings. Most people didn’t use them outside of those. The one you led him to was your favorite. It was located on the second floor, not particularly far from the kitchen, and had a set of perfectly worn club chairs with an accompanying shared end table between. Both of which faced a floor to ceiling window that overlooked the streets below. There were plenty of other seats to claim with several other sofas, tables, and arrangements set up but, you enjoyed being able to people watch.
Claiming one of the seats, you made yourself comfortable after setting your plate and cup down. Lucifer apprehensively followed suit. As he sat, you carefully grabbed your now properly steeped tea and took a sip finally finding able to take a full, flavorful taste that finally soothed some of the ache in your throat. After the moment of temporary relief passed, you opened your eyes to find him waiting.
“So…” he probed gently as you picked up a wafer to dip into your tea to soften, “what’s going on?” His fingers drummed on his mug before he too took a slow tentative sip of his piping hot tea.
Deferring your answer, you look away. Your full attention going to the wafer as it soaked up the chamomile flavor. Just as it started to crumble, you hoisted it to your mouth where it promptly fell apart with little effort or mastication. Finally, you tempted a swallow followed by another small sip of tea, pleasantly surprised to find your body amenable to this tactic.
Your eyes met his again and were surprised to see him patiently waiting. It made you feel bad. Here he was worrying about you. Giving you space to gather yourself. To prepare. It was hell after all. Stories of being assaulted was just another Tuesday for a good number of people. Yet your truth wasn’t so tragic. You take a breath and rip the metaphorical bandaid off. “It was werk. People aw willin’ ta pay ta kill someone sometimes an’ they pay a pretty penny. I jus’ gawta heal up from it. There ain’t nothin’ ta worry ‘bout.”
Your voice sounded stronger now though talking still worked healing muscles and punished you for it. You sought out a sip of tea again, admonishing yourself for not procuring honey. You paused drinking when you heard a quiet, “Why?”
“Why… what?” you raspily counter over the rim of the cup, studying his expression. Trying to glean any information you could.
“Why did you do it?” he gave you nothing. His face relaxed. Any emotions that warred within him shielded behind a mask of impassiveness. “You mentioned when we first properly met you were just keeping the job to protect your reputation should redemption fall through. Why would you go to that extreme?”
Why did his lack of emotions dig at you so deeply?
Someone walking down along the street caught your attention through the window and you looked to them. Your eyes glued as if they were the most interesting thing in the world. As you watched them though you did think about it. Money really had been the answer to his why but, he wasn’t wrong. You didn’t actually need it at this point. During your stay you had accumulated quite the nest egg and stashed it away. Yet you had still jumped at the opportunity to make more money despite your newfound security.
“I… I think it’s cause I’m still sawta stuck in survival mode. Maybe. I dunno.” you stop a moment to clear your throat and shrug. Looking down to your tea, your thumb caressing the side of the mug. “It just…seemed supa easy. I died befoa so it didn’ seem lika big deal an’ the money is pretty nice. Can neva have ‘nough. Ya know?”
You look up to Lucifer, realized he was the king of hell, and giggled out at the absurdity of your failed epiplexis as well as to break the tension. “Well, I suppose maybe nawt. King a hell an awll. Don’ seem like the sort that gawta worry ‘bout that kinda thing.”
A long drink eased the ache again before you picked up another wafer to dunk, noting your throat felt worlds better.
“If redeeming everyone falls through, we aren’t just going to abandon everyone.”
Lucifer was looking out the window as he spoke. When your attention snapped to him, he seemed adrift in his thoughts. It was as if you were peering at a painting capturing this intimate moment in time. On hand was on his cane that was draped across his lap while the other held the handle of the mug on the table. One leg crossed over the other as he leaned all the way back. The soft red glow of pride ring illuminating his pearlescent skin with soft hints of neon accenting his jawline and brow bones from the business signs across the street. Yet his hat cast a shadow across his eyes that, in your interpretation, made him seem tired. Forlorn.
When he turned to you, the small smile he gave made your heart squeeze. Your breath caught in your throat as your chest tightened. The uncomfortable clenching something you hadn’t felt in… how long? You hadn’t felt it during your sinner life. Having lost yourself in the feeling a moment too long, by the time you tore your eyes off of him you found the wafer you had been soaking, had fallen apart in your fingers and disappeared to the bottom of your mug.
“Charlie wouldn’t do that.” A whispered utterance. The small smile remained on his lips as he sipped his tea and looked back outside. Dawning the same expression from before.
Staring at the sunken wafer as his words processed, the silence that lingered was something of comfort. Slowly, you leaned back in your chair and looked outside with him. More people were beginning to pass by as the morning wore on.
“It’s hawd.” His head cocked slightly and he turned just enough to look towards you comfortably. You remained quiet though, watching the people outside. Someone began yelling at another person which suddenly escalated to fists being thrown. You heard Lucifer ‘tsk’ and noted the shake of his head from your peripheral.
“What do you mean?” he finally inquired as he turned away from the skirmish.
You looked away from the brawl as well, meeting his eyes when you finally did speak, “Ta rely awn someone. ‘specially dahn here. I know ya Mornin’staws ah, quite literally, a different breed an seem ta mean what ya say but… it doesn’ stahp the emotional walls from bein’ up. From feelin’ like… ya still the only one who’ll take cara ya.” A quick sip soothed your throat again, “Can’t stahp mah’self from wonderin’ when the otha shoe’ll drop.”
You offer a small smile at him. Lucifer was gazing down at the floor though and seemed to be processing what you were saying. “Just… gonna take time. Ya know?”
Lucifer slowly looked up to you before returning the smile and nodding. His eyes slipped to the scarf for a moment before he tore his eyes away from it. It made you swallow out of reflex. You wondered for a moment if he would be willing to heal your throat but, thought better of it. You already owed him a favor and you really didn’t want him thinking you were spending time with him just because he could do something for you.
No. You had known the consequences when you did it and were willing to accept them. That was part of this whole redemption thing wasn’t it? Accepting you fucked up. Seeking forgiveness for your wrongdoings. Letting people support you and giving you the grace to be better.
Gently, you reach your foot across the expanse between the two of you and nudge his leg with a playful bump. “Thank ya, dowll.”
“Thank you? For what?” Lucifer asked, a little surprised having shot a look at your foot before up to you again.
“For carin’. I know I prattle awn so, for listen’ as well.”
Lucifer blinked. Slowly, his face eased into an expression you couldn’t peg. It almost looked like a combination of amusement and pity but, by the way he chuckled out neither of those seemed quite right. “You’re quite welcome.” He glanced a way for a moment and then back.
“Do you think…” he took a breath and his mouth hung open a moment, the words stuck. He then seemed to think better of it and shook his head and let out a ‘hmm’ as he indulged in his tea.
Tilting your head, you smirked at him. “Cat got’cha tongue? Guess there gotta be a first time for every for everything but, ya don’t need ta clam up ‘round me, cheeks.”
Lucifer’s brows furrowed at the new nickname. “Cheeks?”
A raised brow at him and a moment to think on it didn’t seem to spark any idea on where the name came from so you lightly tapped your own cheek where his rosey red circles would have been on your face if you dawned them. He scoffed out and shook a head with a bemused roll of his eyes. “Told ya that ya opened a can-a-worms.” you laughed out, finishing off your tea leaving the crumbled wafer at the bottom.
“You’ve certainly been true to your word.” Lucifer grinned, giving you the same look from earlier you couldn’t quite figure out. It made your chest tighten.
Voices off in the distance echoed into the room, both yourself and Lucifer turning slightly at the sound. Lucifer sucked in a breath and stood up. “Thank you for the pleasant chat and for being honest with me about,” he motioned to your neck, “your ailment. I…”
He hesitated as he stood there a moment, his hand clamping down on his cane. “I do hope… you can begin to feel like you can depend upon us.” he turned and smiled, almost as if he had wanted to say ‘me’ before he had a thought and laughed out nervously at it, “I mean ‘us’ as in here at the hotel. Everyone at the hotel. Like Charlie! And Mag-, I mean Vaggie! So you don’t feel like you HAVE to do…that again.”
He wheezed, coughed, and cleared his throat. His practiced smile plastered again on his face again. “Thank you for the company.”
“I’ll see ya ‘round Luci babe.” you giggled out as he briskly retreated, leaving you to finish your snacks before making your own retreat back to your room for the rest of the day.