i. white roses

Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck.

Lucifer couldn't believe with anyone, his devil face coming back would show in front of Chloe. The furious resentment that was radiating off of him toward his Dad was papable. What kind of ridiculous twist in His plan was this? Why was He torturing Lucifer so much like this to use Chloe this much against him?

Regardless, the devil tried his best to make it up. He walked out of a flower shop with a white roses, brighter than any ivory on Earth, shining bright with baby breath peppered in betwixt each of them. In one hand he had them and a cup of coffee in the other. Last night was… insane to say the least. So this morning Lucifer wanted to, for a lack of better terms, bless her with some purity. Maybe they could talk. After all, she was very logical. She was very understanding. Out of anyone, she could handle the truth, right? She sees the brutality of reality every day. She could handle this, right?

As Lucifer climbed into his car and travelled to her house, he placed them in the front seat and the coffee in the cup-holder. During his drive, he went over the blueprint of dialouge he was going to map out when they came face to face. But as he made it to her place and saw the driveway, the car was gone. Oh no. He expected the worst. Not even knocking, he forced the door open to see the house empty. Almost ransacked like a petty burglar swept through her place. Being in L.A., that could always be highly possible. However, Lucifer listened to his gut instinct. She was gone.

Distraught and without a second thought, the white roses dropped from his hand onto the floor. He couldn't even comprehend what was happening. He just shut the door and walked off to his car.