It was only their second night in LA when Lucifer went to Mazikeen's bedroom door. He let himself in just as Maze came out of the bathroom.
"Maze, I need you to do something for me."
They stared at each other from across the room. Maze could hear the apprehension in his voice, see the uncertainty in his eyes. She crossed the room to stand before him.
"Anything," she whispered. The tension was so thick, it felt like she were walking on glass, and she didn't even know why.
"I need you to cut off my wings."
Maze's eyes went wide as she regarded him. "Why?"
"I've left hell behind. I don't want to done useless wings any longer. Grab you blade."
Maze just nodded and moved to her dresser, grabbing her curved blade. Lucifer lay face down on her bed, his wings fanned out. Where once they had been gorgeous and powerful, they were now dull and grey. His father took away his ability to fly, so why keep them? He kept them in hell because they reminded everyone of who he was, but here in the mortal world, he didn't need them and didn't want to be reminded of the once great power they granted him.
Maze moved to straddle his midsection, her knees firmly planted on either side of him. She knew how much he had once valued his wings. He held onto them for so long, hoping to grasp onto the last ounce of love his father once had for him, hoping to one day earn the power to fly again. "You're sure about this?"
"Just do it."
Maze moved the blade to the base of his left wing and cut in. Lucifer screamed and writhed beneath her, his wings shaking weakly. She continued to cut through the tough flesh, tears stinging her eyes. Lucifer was supposed to be immune to pain, and she was supposed to enjoy it, but this she could not stand; she'd never seen Lucifer in actual pain, and it tore at her. He was biting down on the bedspread, black blood trickling from beneath her blade. With a final cut, the wing was loose and dangling in her hand. Sickened, she threw it to the floor. As she cut into the right wing, Lucifer was silent, the muscles on his back tense. She sawed and hacked at the wing until it too was cut off, then cast it to the floor beside the other.
Tossing her blade on the nightstand, Maze grabbed the edge of her sheets and dabbed at the blood. It was already clotting, but the flesh was red and puffy.
"Stay here," she murmured, climbing off of him and going into the bathroom. She returned a moment later with a green bottle and a wet towel. Straddling him again, she pressed the towel against his back, cleaning the now dry blood to reveal two identical scars.
"Is it bad?" he asked, turning his face to look at her.
"Could be worse," she replied, giving him a weak smirk. "Now relax, this lotion will help. It may sting at first but it will help to soothe the flesh."
Maze poured a small amount of the lotion directly onto each scar and Lucifer hissed. He tensed when she started to rub it in, but within moments it felt like a cool blast of refreshing air and he went limp under her touch.
When the scars were no longer red, Maze slid off of him and padded over to the disposed wings. They were now completely dead, the feathers brittle under her touch. She carried them into the hall and pulled a sheet from the hall closet, wrapping the wings carefully. Returning to her room, she placed the bundled wings in the back of her closet. They were once Lucifer's greatest asset; they didn't belong in the trash nor deserved to be thrown into the fireplace. They were Lucifer's last tie to Heaven, and she knew that deep down, he missed the glory that Heaven had bestowed upon him and the love his father had for him, before he fell from grace.
Turning, she regarded him now. He was dosing softly, his face at ease. She secretly feared what this mortal world would do to them; how he'd change, how their relationship would change. Cutting off his wings was his first step towards change, and Maze wasn't sure how she felt about it.
"Are you just going to stare at me all night?"
Maze rolled her eyes and moved back to her bed, climbing in beside Lucifer.
"I think that was the biggest 'fuck you' I've ever given my dear old dad."
"Even bigger than leaving hell for a damn vacation in LA?"
"Yes, I think so," he chuckled, nuzzling into her neck.
"What is your plan here, Luce?" she asked, turning to face him.
"To enjoy ourselves darling! And cause all hell to break loose while we're at it. Doesn't that sound thrilling?" He moved an arm across her abdomen, rubbing small circles above the hem of her lace lingerie.
"You and I have two very different definitions of 'thrilling'," she purred.
"I'm now a fallen angel with no wings, I have nothing to lose."