Prompt:
98. "I would've had breakfast ready, but you were sleeping on my arm and I didn't want to wake you."

halcyon
/ˈhalsɪən/
adjective
a period of time in the past that was idyllically happy and peaceful.

Chapter 1: Halcyon

A long breath glides out of her as the first rays of sunshine brings her back to consciousness. With her eyes still closed, her focus hones on the steady beats of his heart under her palm. She suppresses a smile and her body sinks deeper into the mattress.

She loves his bed.

As though his divine senses can tell she is starting to wake, his arms tighten around her and shift her closer, a silk sheet whispering its agreement to let her move beneath it until her bare chest molds to his sleep-warmed body. A feather-light hand scoops a fallen lock of hair away from her face, tucking it behind her ear in a gesture that distinguishes him just as equally as the timbre of his voice.

"Good morning," she whispers and gentle lips brush against her temple. "Sleep well?"

His nod is faint, just enough that it tickles where the five-o'clock shadow on his chin and jaw brush against her forehead. She squirms a bit and feels him smile, his leg winding over hers to keep her still. His hand finds hers on his chest, tangling their fingers together. She tucks their intertwined hands under her chin and his thumb frees itself to caress her cheek.

There's nothing as beautiful as waking up with Lucifer.

He's all soft whispers and tender kisses in the morning. He likes everything quiet, unhurried, unstressed and un-everything that defines the typical chaos of his nightclub owner activities and their work. Except when it's all paperwork and no chasing after bad guys.

And despite claiming that he detests this boring side of her work because "I'm pretty sure people are forced to do this exact same thing in Hell, Detective" he sticks around and brings her a tall, non-fat almond milk latte with sugar-free caramel drizzle and her favorite grilled cheese sandwich. And she adores him for it.

When they eventually make it out of bed it's all teases and taunts, rolled eyes and flirty smirks, and enough dirty jokes to fill the Pacific. But she can't fault him for putting on a show for the outside world. She even joins him on the jokes or lets out a silent chuckle instead of an eye-roll. Being "In The Know" club is so much more fun.

She wiggles a little and his hold loosens, allowing her to scoot further up the pillow so their noses almost touch. His eyes are closed, black eyelashes swept down and she threads her fingers into his hair, her nails massaging his scalp in a perfected pattern that practically make him purr.

Her lips press against his in greeting and he hums happily in response, his free arm encircles her waist under the sheets, one fingertip trailing a line from the top of her ribs down to her hip before it finds its place on her lower back.

And that's when her stomach chooses that moment to let out an angry growl at its emptiness, making her cheek flush and he lets out a small chuckle against her hair. She wrinkles her nose at the interruption while he pulls back slightly and opens his eyes to look at her for the first time that day.

"Apologies, darling," he starts with a smile. "I would've had breakfast ready, but you were sleeping on my arm and I didn't want to wake you."

It's stupid and it's just a sentence, but it still catches her off guard how sweet he can be. A thought which she knows better than to tell him because he would only scoff and deny it "I am the Devil, darling. I don't do sweet" she practically hears him. Which brings her to her second realization; that the actual Devil, the former King of Hell, the son of freaking God, an immortal angel would decide to let her use his arm as a pillow and not risk waking her by slipping out of bed and prepare breakfast for her.

This man.

But as many times before, he takes her silence the wrong way. "But I can whip something up for you now, an omelette with a ridiculous amount of cheese and mushrooms as you like, before you have to pick up the Urchin from Daniel…" he rambles as he makes a move to get out of the bed and she stops him with a gentle hand on his cheek and her second taste of his lips that day.

He immediately responds and settles back with a surprised hum in his throat before enveloping her in his arms and deepens the kiss.

"It's okay," she assures him when they break apart. "I'll have something on the way home."

She watches him opening his mouth to complain and tell her that "Detective, I can't let you eat those poisonous meals they serve at that awful place near your home" but she shushes him with a finger on his lips before he can utter the words and pulls off the sheets from her naked body down to her waist, a silent invitation she knows he won't refuse.

She can see the turmoil in his dark eyes; one part of him wants to give in to his carnal desires and the other wants to give her a piece of his mind on the matter and admonish her on her unhealthy diet. But a silent raise of her brow that says "Do you really want to argue when we can do more enjoyable things?" does him in and he lets out an amused "Very well" before they celebrate this new day in the most pleasant way.

And when she emerges from his gigantic bathroom later, fresh and happy, she's not even a little bit surprised to find him with two plates of steaming omelette in his hand and a smug and satisfied smile on his face.

She only shakes her head fondly at him and goes to have breakfast with the Devil.