I am so glad to be back! I am so sorry guys. Had to get a new laptop. Keyboard shat out on the old one. But here you go! the anticipated Chapter 11!. Please read & Review :D
"Be careful, monkey. Don't run in the house"
Cautions Chloe as her 8 year old daughter threw her book bag to the floor. Making a beeline to her room to play with the new American Doll (through guilt and caving) Chloe had bought for her.
"I will mom!"
Was her last words before the child disappeared out of sight. She sighs, setting the car keys on the granite countertop and brushing a few stray blonde strands from her face. Something lying on the kitchen table suddenly catches her attention.
She walks over to it. Eyeing it mildly inquisitive. It looked like an ultrasound printout. It was an ultrasound printout. On the upper right-hand side was his handwritten Post-It. Just as the image had intended a small smile had pulled at the corners of her mouth.
It was bad enough Lucifer found himself occasionally folding his hands to his cryptic "Sky Daddy" as he so "affectionately" dubbed him. It was a whole other level of unpleasantness to be praying to the porcelain Gods. Had the Devil known he was renouncing 2,000 years as ruler of Hell to just wind up in his own personal one on Earth, he would've never left.
No sooner had he wiped the bit of stray vomit from his lips was he hit with another merciless wave. Leaving him practically begging for death. His cell goes off in the other room of the lavish penthouse. Clamoring for his attention. However it would have to take a backseat to the wretched attention whore known as morning sickness. Funny though seeing it was mid noon at that point.
When he didn't think there was anything left to bring back up, and found his strength, Lucifer gets to his feet and trudges to the now silent mobile. Swiping a finger across the screen to bring up recent calls. It was a missed call from Chloe. He taps the number to make an immediate call-back. After a few echoing rings came her voice on the other end.
"Lucifer" she began. Sounding as though she was startled. He takes a seat at the bed's edge whilst still having her on the line in attempt to lull his fickle stomach. Free hand with fingers gracing the tiny 3 month swell. Then came her voice again.
"I saw the image with your note on the table⦠and yes, it did bring that smile back"
A warm calm washes over him. Small smile breaking as lungs let out a previously held breath.
"Splendid news, Detective"
It all seemed so sudden. As if someone had flicked a light switch. The Devil was now at 26 weeks and nearly at the tail-end of his second trimester. Whomever coined this was the "honeymoon period" was full of shite. The morning (and afternoon) sickness had finally abated. However, it felt as though his spine was repeatedly stomped on by metal cleated shoes. Roller coaster emotions and still, nasty occasional heartburn flare-ups.
Lately Lucifer had found he'd developed a penchant for Red Hots candies. Yes, yes.. he was aware of what a glaring, ironic stereotype this was. Whilst checking the phone and, of course, sucking on the cinnamon candies until devoid of flavor. His daughter decided to stir.
No longer a tiny swell. He brushes a hand over the more pronounced "baby bump". Figuring there was only about 5 weeks left until the "beer gut" line lost its validity. Particularly regarding the regulars of Lux. Although these were not full blown jabs and movement. It still was enough to grab his attention. Perhaps she wasn't as fond of the small red sweets as her father was. He sets the phone down with a bit of a chuckle.
"You are certainly the Devil's daughter, poppet".
