Hey everyone!

Thanks for the reviews on the previous chapter, I appreciate as always!

Here's the next one for you.

Enjoy!

MAYBE

A purring.

He was almost sure of it. Almost. Something was purring near him. Certainly not a car. No. It was something else. A purring less noisy than an engine, but equally unbearable for Lucifer. Every sound was as nice as nails on a blackboard. Fingernails figuratively scratching the inside of his skull.

Lucifer let out a groan, annoyed by this incessant noise. A disturbance that forced him to reconnect himself with the world around him. Reconnecting with the new sensations that tortured each part of his body. Extremely unpleasant and unusual sensations.

Sensations that Lucifer would have done without.

He felt an insistent and painful pressure at the level of his sweaty temples, a pressure with increasing in intensity. Another sensation quickly caught his attention: his stomach seemed to want to literally experiment the principle of roller coaster. Lucifer let out a slight moan, ruined by all these odious physical sensations. The far too dynamic movements of his digestive system became more insistent. Lucifer retched.

He felt...nauseous? How was this possible?

He was the Devil. An immortal being. He wasn't supposed to tolerate the weak condition peculiar to mankind. He loved to lower himself to share their carnal desires, but...

Another retching took him, causing an umpteenth grunt.

" Bloody Hell..."

Had he been infected by a supernatural disease? A toxin as dangerous for humans as for immortal beings? No, this theory was absurd. Ridiculous. In his defense, it was very difficult for him to formulate coherent thoughts with this vile jackhammer in the head. Lucifer wasn't at best with his physical and intellectual abilities. Everything seemed extremely arduous. Moving a limb, opening his eyes,…

Nothing was simple.

A question ended up imposing on his foggy mind: where the hell was he?

Lucifer tried to gather his scattered memories, hoping to establish a coherent timeline. A logical minimum. An explanation for his state and this untimely deafening purring for ten minutes now.

He remembered going back to Lux after...his talk with Chloe.

" You're just a self-centered asshole...who's doing good in bed! Nothing more! "

A new pain awoke into his chest, as he felt his throat knotting for no valid reason. Why did he feel so bad? Why did the detective's words affect him so much? Why was he so much affected by these pathetic human emotions? And what were these emotions that tormented him relentlessly? The only thing certain for Lucifer was this pain, this surplus of human emotions to muzzle. He remembered drinking. A lot. More than that. Much more than that. This method didn't seem to work efficiently given his deplorable condition. He felt much worse than the day before. Or was it a few hours? Only a few minutes which had elapsed since the bitter words spat in his face by her?

He didn't know. He knew no more.

The rest was most confusing. It was the first time. Alcohol had never had that effect on him. Never. But Lucifer had never felt like that either. This may explain that.

Maybe.

He let out another grunt before opening one eye. Only one. Very gently. As cautiously as possible. He went from the most total darkness to an unbearable light. A light that quickly increased his migraine at the level of his painful temples. Lucifer quickly closed his eyes, a whistling coming from his mouth. What could illuminate so much? He'd have thought himself a few millimeters from the Sun! Which was totally impossible. He was well placed to know that.

Lucifer waited a moment before carefully opening the same eye, placing the palm of his hand over it. Just in case. The light was still as bright. He opened both eyes, first blinded, then slowly becoming accustomed to the ambient light. A common light filtering gently through the blinds not far from him. A brightness still too strong for his retinas. Lucifer squinted, puzzled.

What time was it?

He lowered his hand and looked with care what was surrounding him. He was lying on a sofa, covered with a blanket to the waist, still fully dressed. Well...dressed. Manner of speaking. His clothes couldn't have been more crumpled then right now. Clothes filled with a tenacious alcohol fragrance that made him feel sick. A first. He...sick of alcohol. A previously unseen and unconceivable news.

And yet...

Lucifer wondered who could be the owner of this sofa. Furniture he didn't know. Well, he didn't have any social relations with the furniture either! The surroundings didn't mean anything to him, however. He was quite torn between anxiety and curiosity. And an irrepressible desire to throw up the contents of his stomach. He wasn't really up for this last option.

He stretched out in the sofa, settling himself – and his painful skull - more comfortably against the pillows. He took a deep breath and exhaled deeply, trying to calm down the dizzy quavers of his rebellious digestive system. An umpteenth purring reached his ears, once again increasing the throbbing pain along his temples. Lucifer gently turned his head towards the noise and met two yellow eyes.

Dull and filthy eyes. Eyes surrounded by white mustaches and a fairly dense brown fur. He widened his eyes and shrank back against the cushions, disgusted. He didn't think he could be more disgusted, by the way. The cat was still purring and happily rocked its tail on the table of the living room. Lucifer stared at it, suspicious, a rictus on his face.

" Back off, hellish creature! ", Lucifer mumbled in a furred voice.

" There're cats in Hell? "

Lucifer jumped by hearing that voice, straightening up in a sitting position. A movement that made everything reeled around him. He briefly closed his eyes, deeply breathing through his nose before opening them again. He looked behind him and met Linda's gaze, the latter sitting at the table, a cup in her hands. She wore a jogging and a lilac-colored sweat, her hair tied to a loose ponytail. Lucifer stared at her for a moment without answering to her previous question, confused. Why had he spent the entire night on his therapist's private sofa? If only he could remember the last hours...

He stopped looking at her to glare at the quadruped monster near him, the latter still purring for some puzzling reason. Without any reason, possibly. These bloody creatures were ecstatic for a trifle : a caress, a word, meat...

" If there were any, Hell would be a terrible place, Doctor...", he answered, rising gently from the sofa.

Linda laughed softly at his answer. Lucifer walked along the sofa, the cat spying on every gesture, intrigued. Lucifer finally managed to get away from the beast and joined his therapist at the table. He slid a chair towards him, the grating of the wood on the ground increasing his migraine. He collapsed heavily in his seat, quickly burying his head between his arms under Linda's amused look.

"Good morning, Lucifer! ", she said cheerfully, insisting on the good.

" Good...It depends on who, Doctor. " , Lucifer mumbled, his voice stifled by his arms.

He vaguely heard her standing up without a word after a few seconds. A pronounced scraping noise was heard before him. Lucifer raised his head, focusing his blurry eyes on the glass of water before him. He stared at it for a moment before giving a puzzled look at his therapist, still standing at the opposite corner of the dining table.

" What is it? ", he asked, stroking the glass with his fingers.

" The best hangover remedy: water! ", she explained as she sat down on her seat.

Lucifer stared at the glass before him, replying:

" The Devil has no hangover..."

" Well, Lucifer can't escape from it, obviously. You told me to have drank the entire Lux's storehouse! "

He looked at her, confused. The entire storehouse? Really? He didn't remember. Could he believe her? Yes, of course he could. Linda would never lie to him. He had no reason to doubt. Why had he drunk so much? Lucifer was constantly asking the question while knowing the answer perfectly.

Chloe.

Again and again Chloe.

Chloe's dirty look.

Chloe's evasion.

Chloe's acid words.

Chloe telling the truth. An unbearable truth. A truth arousing an intense pain in his chest. Pain he couldn't get rid of.

Lucifer hardly swallowed and brought the glass to his lips, emptying it in one go. It did him some good, indeed. He put the empty glass on the table and gave a worried look to his therapist. The latter sipped her coffee quietly while looking out of the corner of her eye her patient in a pitiful condition. Patient who still wondered how he had arrived on his therapist's couch.

He cleared his throat before asking:

" How did I get here? "

Linda took another sip of coffee before putting her cup on the table and looking Lucifer in the eye. She leaned more comfortably against the back of her chair and enlightened Lucifer about the events of the night before:

" You showed up at my office totally drunk around...eleven. You seemed quite disturbed about an altercation with Detective Decker. I proposed to drive you back, but you refused...so, I drove you at my place and you immediately fell on the couch. "

Lucifer writhed on his chair, feeling uncomfortable. He felt ridiculous. And ashamed. He felt bad for getting so worked up about a common human.

No.

That wasn't true.

Chloe was anything but common. He didn't know what she really was. For him.

What they were or rather... what they could have been.

" Do you want to talk about this, Lucifer? ", Linda asked softly.

No. He didn't want to talk about it. It wasn't a matter of desire. Lucifer sighed deeply and glanced hesitantly at his therapist, who gave him a comforting smile.

He had to talk about it.

Linda was patting the surface of the table with her fingertips for quite a while. Which was annoying Lucifer more and more. Could she just stop patting on this bloody table and focus on his problem? An insurmountable problem in the eyes of Lucifer. What should he do? Do not see Chloe again? Breaking off all ties with her? Going back to Hell? No. A bit too much drastic as a solution. He didn't really want to see the Burning Doors and the Damned Souls again.

Lucifer let out a slight sigh as he rested his forearms on the table. He mechanically rubbed his moist temples with his fingertips, hoping to soften the painful palpitation that tortured him since he awoke. This pain was really uncomfortable. He was resolved to never drink that much again. It sounded like death penalty! But calm down his enthusiasm here wasn't a bad idea. He closed his eyes, continuing to rub with one hand his painful temple and enjoying the silence.

Linda finally stopped patting her nails on the table and convincingly said:

" I'm pretty sure that Chloe didn't mean a word of that, Lucifer. "

The latter sat up, leaning in turn more comfortably against the back of his chair. He let out a bitter exclamation at his therapist's fanciful remark. She was wrong. Strongly wrong. Lucifer crossed his arms on his chest and replied in an annoyed tone:

" You're wrong, Doctor! We can't lie to the Devil! And Chloe didn't lie, believe me. "

He'd have preferred to be wrong. For once. Just for once. He'd have preferred to hope. But the truth was there. Sharp. Chloe despised him. Lucifer wasn't worthy of her. She didn't desire him. He thought...

He was so stupid.

Chloe should have seen who he really was, she shouldn't have stopped at the picture he gave, this picture given to him by the entire world. She should have...she should have seen beyond this.

Linda nodded gently, pensive.

" You misunderstood me, Lucifer. Chloe was indeed sincere about the content, but not about the style. "

Lucifer gave her a confused look, opening and closing his mouth quickly. What could he answer here? Did that even make any sense? Content...Style. What was that? Grammar?! Now? With his raging migraine?

Before he could say anything, his therapist quickly continued:

" Think about it, Lucifer...How did you feel the next morning when you realized she was gone? "

Lucifer opened his mouth again in order to give her a stinging answer, but closed it very quickly. He tried to revive the sensations he had felt before meeting her on the crime scene. What had he felt?

" I felt...I... I had a knot in my stomach and... ", he stammered, lost in thought.

" Were you... anxious? ", his therapist helped him, a slight smile on her lips.

Lucifer looked Linda in the eye, quickly turning his head away, feeling uncomfortable. He sat up, his muscles stiffened by tension. He swallowed before answering in a breath, before barely admitting to his feelings:

" Maybe... "

The therapist nodded slightly, an appreciative nod. Lucifer couldn't see where she was going with this. How his "possible" anxiety could be a good thing? Did it really matter? Now that Chloe rejected him, nothing else mattered. He felt weary, exhausted. Without any reason. It wasn't a physical exhaustion: which would have been reasonable given the last excessive toot. A much... deeper exhaustion. Much more underhand. Lucifer couldn't have explained it himself. All he wanted at that precise moment was to lie down and sleep. Sleep as long as possible. Being alone. A strange desire. A powerful one.

" If we study Chloe's words, she blames you for your inability to be intimately connected with a woman...", Linda began.

Lucifer interrupted her with another mocking exclamation. His usual charming smile came on his lips.

" If there's one thing I'm capable of...where I excel in, doctor...It's creating intimate bond! ", he laughed.

" That's not what I mean, Lucifer. I'm talking about emotional bonds. Chloe knows your ability to...seduce. That's the problem. She's also afraid...", she continued, putting aside his salacious hint.

Il narrowed his eyes, skeptical. Chloe...afraid? Afraid of what? And in what ways are his hobbies a problem?

" I don't understand. What did my one-night stands got to do with this? ", Lucifer replied, leaning against the wooden table.

" Most women aspire to relationship...to something meaningful than a fleeting one-night stand. Chloe is one of these women. You, Lucifer are more the kind of person to go right or left, where the pleasure is...where the facility is. The detective doesn't want to be part of your little black book, she wants more than that. A relationship, Lucifer! And instead of being rejected by you, she rejected you. ", the therapist said calmly.

Lucifer had listened to her with attention. With attention, and incomprehension too. A growing incomprehension with every word, every sentence formulated by his therapist. He also felt...insulted. Somehow. An opinion which he hastened to share with her:

" She rejected me, yes! She should know-…"

Linda nodded gently and gave an indulgent look at her patient. Patient who stared at her without understanding. What now?

" I'm not saying that this is your fault, Lucifer... or the detective's fault. I'm just stating a fact. Something that might help you to resolve this situation. You're assuming that Chloe knows your feelings for her...that she perfectly knows that there's not just sex between you. ", his therapist informed him. " She doesn't know. People for whom we have affection do not necessarily know it. You have to show your affection: by gestures, words, … You see? "

" I showed her, Doctor. I couldn't show it more, believe me! ", Lucifer exclaimed, more and more annoyed.

Linda sighed deeply and rolled her eyes.

" Once again, this is not about sex. On the contrary. You have to show her by your behavior in general. Told her what you're feeling for her, for instance...Having little thoughts for her. "

Lucifer sighed in turn and retreated into silence. The therapist's words weren't completely absurd. Even a tad clever and insightful. Even though, he wasn't good for human interactions. And for good reason! He was the Devil! Torture, pleasure, desire...he could deal with this.

A relationship...

Why was he considering this possibility? Their quarrel seemed insurmountable. Definitive. Putting an end to their partnership or any other kind of relationship between them. His therapist's explanations seemed pointless given the situation.

What was he going to do?

Lucifer ran his hand through his hair and showed a weary, resigned smile.

" There's nothing more to show, Doctor.", he resigned.

The pain in his chest once again expressed itself, Lucifer wincing at its touch. Linda pinched her lips, as she used to do before another disturbing emotional observation. For which bloody reason did he take an interest to in human emotions? Everything went from bad to worse since. His mortality, his dreadful manipulative and nymphomaniac mother, Uriel's death... And now this. A series of disasters that didn't seem to stop.

" Well, in that case, nothing stops you here anymore, isn't it? Go back to Hell and use your time more cleverly! ", Dr. Martin said as she shrugged nonchalantly.

He looked again at his therapist, annoyed by her last words. Words only pronounced to get on his nerves. To awaken in him this feeling of revolt. The visceral refusal to give up. To turn his back on this chance, this single opportunity. Turning his back on Chloe.

He didn't want to give up.

But...This isn't only up to him. Unfortunately. Or...fortunately. A bit of both.

Linda didn't stop to look Lucifer in the eye, not in the least disturbed by his dirty look. She quickly continued:

" You came here looking for something. Something you've found, Lucifer. Do not give it up as easily...to the slightest difficulty. That's the only advice I can give you. "

He hardly swallowed, looking everywhere except his therapist. These emotions were bloody inconvenient! Too much intrusive. They got the upper hand on his thought.

No. He didn't want to give up Chloe. Of course, he didn't. But how could he do? Was it up to him to do something? Would it be better to wait for a sign from the detective? But, if she actually didn't want to see him again...

Lucifer gave her a confused look as Linda got up from her chair.

" What am I supposed to do? ", he asked her, completely lost.

" No idea, I'm not the one who has feelings for Chloe. I can't help you here. ", she answered out of nowhere as she dropped her empty cup in the sink. " On the other hand, ... a shower could be an excellent starting point! "

He laughed softly at her comment about his hygiene and shook his head, quite relieved after this chat. The therapist gave a last smile before heading to the back of her house, leaving him alone with his thoughts. Alone with a choice to make. He leaned more comfortably against his chair, the back of his skull resting against the wall behind him. Lucifer stood like this for a moment, his head leaning against the wall, his eyes looking at the ceiling as his mind was working at full capacity.

Feelings.

Really? Was that it? The devil...The original monster...loving a human?

This idea imbued with truth brought a new smile to Lucifer's lips. A dreamy...innocent smile.

He...Lucifer...had feelings for...Chloe.

" Maybe..."

To be continued with..." An act of faith "

Even with her closed eyes, Chloe could easily see Lucifer's shaken face. This intense disillusion in his eyes. His sadness. A sadness for which she was solely responsible. She felt so bad. She would have liked to go back. To take back what she said. To explain more calmly her fears to her partner. Having a real discussion with him. About them. About their common future or not. Decide on what happened next...together. Whether good or bad. Telling him her doubts. Listening to his own.

It was too late now.

Next chapter next week!

Let a little review if you like as usual. ;)

Bye bye!