"Oh please! If he was hurt or in trouble, he wouldn't have just left. He would have been moaning and groaning about it to me." Chloe exclaimed. She was eyeing Dan like he had completely lost his mind. There was no way she was going to admit to him that she thought Lucifer was running from her or at least what had started between them.
"Just think about it, Chloe. He has been stuck to your side this whole time, but then out of nowhere becomes MIA. It doesn't sound right. Something else is up. Not saying that I'm not enjoying this little hiatus," Dan said with a smirk, "but I hate to see you this upset."
"Ha! I am not upset!" Chloe said, a little too hysterically, waggling a finger in front of Dan's face. "It's just that you don't up and abandon your partner without a word of explanation. It's just like Lucifer to pull this crap."
Dan eyed Chloe warily. She seemed on the verge of a breakdown but he dare not let her know he could see it. Chloe was prideful but Dan wasn't stupid. He could see what had been going on between Chloe and Lucifer. And with Lucifer splitting without any warning, almost 8 weeks ago, it has taken its toll on Chloe. He still had certain feelings for Chloe but that didn't stop him from wanting her to be happy. If that meant her being with Lucifer, then so be it. (But he still didn't have to like it, dammit.)
"I don't want to talk about it anymore, Dan. We have the new case to worry about and I just want to focus on that, ok?" Chloe said wearily. "Sure Chloe, no problem." Dan agreed. But he knew it was far from ok.
Lucifer swirled the amber liquid in the glass, watching the light flicker through its depths, so lost in thought that he barely paid heed to the rather voluptuous dancer currently grinding her scantily clad fanny against his groin. He had spent these past two months drowning in sex, alcohol, more sex, and frankly anything, to avoid having to face the hurt and betrayal that never quite seemed to give him rest.
But here he was again, mind wandering back to the one person he didn't want to think about; the detective. Her green eyes kept floating up in his mind, slightly crinkled at the corners like they tend to do when she smiled. A part of her very essence always coming out to play from the recesses of his mind. No matter what he did, drank or screwed, he could not get the detective out of his thoughts.
He knew she must be feeling betrayed, which gave him even more reservation about what he was going to do. He was going back. He was The Devil for goodness sake! He never ran from anything in his life, more or less a mere mortal.
Not just any mortal his mind whispered. Maybe not, but he was still going back to LA. He had decided that it was his home and he wasn't going to give it up without a fight. He would just have to let the detective know that what she thought they had was nothing ore that a ruse. They were too different and being pushed together by unseen forces. The detective was a smart woman...she would understand. He even understood. He knew what they thought was happening, what they were feeling, just wasn't real. Didn't he?
No matter. This was how it was going to be. He would push those feelings away (because they weren't even real, right?) and handle the situation in a rational way. The detective would see the light and follow suit. Yes, he thought a little nervously, everything would be just fine.