Lucifer's fingers glided over the piano keys, each note ringing soft, weighted, deliberate. "Look into my eyes... You will see... What you m
Lucifer's fingers glided over the piano keys, each note ringing soft, weighted, deliberate.
"Look into my eyes... You will see... What you mean to me..."
The words came out effortlessly, almost absentmindedly, as if his soul remembered them better than his mind did.
It was a foolish thing, really. To let his thoughts drift to before.
Before the war and the rebellion. Before he had become The Devil.
The moments after his creation were the only part of his past he allowed himself to cherish. The first breath of existence, when all was golden and pure. When the Morningstar had been light itself and they were mere tools of Creation and not of war.
Lucifer exhaled through his nose, his fingers pressing a little deeper into the keys, feeling the familiar pull of melancholy.
"Search your heart, search your soul... And when you find me there, you'll search no more..."
He was not particularly loud as he sang, so he could easily hear the loud, exaggerated groan that came from the doorway.
Lucifer sighed, his hands pausing over the piano. "Good evening to you too, Mazikeen. Thank you for making yourself scarce before."
Maze leaned against the frame, arms crossed, eyes filled with theatrical suffering.
"I can't do this," she announced dramatically, ignoring his words altogether. "I really, really can't do this."
Lucifer arched a brow, amused. "Do what, exactly?"
Maze gestured vaguely around the room, her nose wrinkling like she'd just walked into a room filled with flowers and romantic poetry.
"This," she said, waving at him like he was a particularly offensive painting. "This ridiculous, unbearable, absolutely nauseating amount of pining energy floating around this place!"
Lucifer tilted his head, lips curling into an amused smirk. "I have no idea what you're talking about."
Maze threw her hands up.
"Oh, come on!" she snapped. "You're literally singing love songs at your piano while staring into the distance like some tragic widow!"
Lucifer blinked at her. "It's called nostalgia, Mazikeen."
"It's called pathetic."
Lucifer glanced up, sighing once before he looked back at the keys.
Maze marched forward, stabbing a finger in his direction. "You never sing this kind of shit when you're just nostalgic."
Lucifer rolled his eyes. "I have sung these before."
"Yeah. Ironically. Usually to get into someone's pants. Not like… like…" She faltered, wrinkling her nose again, like the words physically pained her.
Lucifer arched a brow, waiting.
"Like you actually mean it," she finished, squinting at him.
Lucifer paused, because that was a dangerous territory, the one they were threading. He forced a smirk. "Well, I am an excellent performer, darling."
Maze wasn't buying it. Her eyes narrowed, sharp, too sharp.
"Apologies for my mood affecting you, Mazikeen," he said dryly, a simple offhanded thing. Nothing serious. Nothing dramatic.
However, it was after he said the words that he realized his mistake.
Maze realized, too, because she froze, her expression changing. That playful mockery faded immediately. She stared at him instead.
Lucifer regretted his words even before her lips curled into the smuggest grin he'd ever seen.
He groaned as he pinched the bridge of his nose.
"Oh, this is bad," she whispered, delighted.
"This is nothing, Maze."
She huffed out a laugh. "Oh, bullshit. You just apologized. Apologized. You don't do that unless you're actually feeling something."
Lucifer stood from the piano. "I feel many things."
"Oh yeah? Then tell me why you're acting like a lovesick angel and I'll drop it."
Lucifer opened his mouth—And closed it.
Damn it.
Maze's grin widened.
"Oh. Oh." She was relishing in this. "You actually like him."
Lucifer scoffed. "I like many people."
Maze crossed her arms, smirking. "No, no. You actually like him."
Lucifer sighed heavily. "This is not a conversation I wish to have."
"So you do like him."
Lucifer grabbed the whiskey bottle off the piano. "I'm leaving now."
"You liiiiiike him."
Lucifer walked toward the balcony. "I refuse to engage with this."
"Lucifer Morningstar has a crush."
Lucifer pointedly stepped outside. Maze followed, because of course she did, grinning like the devil himself.
"Oh, this is delicious."
Lucifer took a long, long sip of whiskey. He needed it, as he knew Maze wasn't going to let this go.
And worst of all?
She was right.
He did like him, and he was utterly screwed.
Lucifer sighed dramatically, leaning against the balcony railing, swirling the whiskey in his glass. The city stretched before him, golden lights against the deep indigo sky, and yet all he could focus on was the smug presence lingering behind him.
"Spit it out," Maze demanded, arms crossed as she stepped onto the balcony. "What is it about this guy?"
Lucifer took a slow sip of his drink, savoring the burn before answering. "Maze, dear, must we do this now?"
"Yes," she said flatly. "Because something's weird, and I know you know what it is."
Lucifer arched a brow, turning slightly to regard her. "Define 'weird.'"
Maze scoffed. "You know exactly what I mean. This feels like what happened with the detective."
Lucifer's jaw tightened slightly. "It is not the same."
Maze gave him a pointed look. "You sure about that?"
Lucifer exhaled sharply through his nose. Was he?
Yes. Yes, he was.
"Come on," Maze pressed, stepping closer. "I don't care that you're into him, whatever. I care that something is off."
Lucifer stared into his whiskey, silent for a moment as Maze studied him, eyes narrowing.
"You already figured it out, didn't you?" she accused. "You know what's weird about him, right? Unlike how you didn't know what was going with Decker."
Lucifer tapped his fingers against his glass, thoughtful. "It is… different."
Maze rolled her eyes. "Yeah, yeah, 'not the same,' I heard you. But do you still feel it? That same nagging sensation you had with her? The way you got pulled in even when you didn't want to be?"
Lucifer scoffed. "Who says I didn't want to be?"
Maze pointed at him. "That. That right there. You're trying to deflect. It means you have an answer."
Lucifer gritted his teeth. Damn her.
She was right.
With Chloe, it had been his mortality, a forced weakness that made him vulnerable in ways that made him curious. It had been like an invisible leash, tugging him toward something he wasn't sure he wanted.
But with Stephen…It was like something lost had suddenly slotted back into place, like something he had been aching for, without even knowing it, was suddenly within reach.
It wasn't suffocating.
It was familiar.
Maze was watching him closely now, her gaze shrewd.
"You look freaked out," she said bluntly.
Lucifer scoffed. "The Devil does not get freaked out."
Maze smirked. "Then why do you look like you realized something you don't want to admit?"
Lucifer clicked his tongue, draining his glass.
Because I have, he thought.
"Stop going in circles and spit it out, Lucy."
"How much do you know about the specifics of Creation?" he says suddenly after sighing. Before she can answer, he changes the question. "Better yet, how much do you know about the demiurgic archangels?"
Maze leaned against the railing beside him, swirling the knife in her hand, as she usually did to relax, clearly growing impatient. "Alright, what's with these questions?"
Lucifer didn't answer immediately. Instead, he refilled his glass, watching the amber liquid catch the city lights. "Indulge me, Maze," he murmured. "What do you know about my creation?"
Maze groaned. "Seriously?"
He shot her a look, and she rolled her eyes. "Fine. What you told the Ancient One, mostly. Your Father made you and the others first, gave you all pieces of creation itself. Amenadiel got time, Michael got the power to make things, you got to bring them to life, and Gabriel got to make rules."
Lucifer hummed, tilting his glass in thought. "Anything about the specifics of our lives?"
"I was born much, much later." Maze frowned. "How would I know that?"
Lucifer smiled faintly. "Exactly."
Maze narrowed her eyes. "If you're leading up to some grand revelation, just say it."
Lucifer ignored her. "And how well do you know my fellow demiurgic archangels?"
Maze huffed, shifting on her feet. "I know Amenadiel the best, obviously. He's always coming to nag you back to Hell whenever you go topside. Self-righteous, insufferable, uptight—"
"Yes, yes, we both know he's a pain," Lucifer interrupted, waving a hand. "What about Gabriel?"
Maze made a face. "Only saw him once or twice. That was enough. Even more of an ass than Amenadiel. All 'divine order' this and 'Father's will' that. Ugh."
Lucifer chuckled before his tone softened. "And Michael?"
Maze's expression darkened slightly at his tone. "Never met him. Only heard about him from demons who knew demons who might have seen him once, eons ago." She tilted her head. "He was the one who you fought the most before your fall, I think? I only know he's got power. Even more than Amenadiel, at least."
Lucifer was quiet for a moment, then said, "Yes, we fought a lot at those times. Weird of us with how close we were."
Maze squinted at him, noticing the shift in his tone. It wasn't filled with a negative feeling, weirdly enough, but with a quiet nostalgia. "What's your point?"
Lucifer exhaled, setting his drink down. He turned to face her fully, golden eyes unreadable.
"Michael and I were the closest of all the first of Father's creations," he admitted. "We're twins, after all."
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