A/N: Okay... so the second to last chapter! WHAT?! Yep, I've finally got it all figured out... right here at the end. Haha. But that's me. I can't plan these things out, not far, anyway. It's a bit of a shorter chapter, but I feel the content is quite heavy, so it seemed right to end it where it does. I don't want to spoil anything for anyone, so if you feel you might be triggered by anything violent, please see the notes at the end for a trigger warning. Um... so yeah. This is something you'll just need to get through...
"Lucifer, if you think I can leave you like this, you really are as fucked up as you seem," Chloe sighed, having spent the last couple hours convincing the man that she wasn't going anywhere. It had been a fucking rollercoaster of emotions for the both of them. Either he was mad, trying to use his anger to push her away, or horrifically said, eyes filling with tears that never spilled. He wouldn't tell her anything other than he couldn't find mine. Chloe was well aware of her importance to him, but she was worried by how upset he was. That coupled with the fact Ella had said Maze put in a leave of absence for an undetermined amount of time.
"I can assure you, I am," he groaned into his hands. He was sobering way too quickly for his liking, and his attempts to get a drink, besides water or coffee, had been thwarted by the stubborn, beautiful woman pacing in front of him. "You really shouldn't be here. I shouldn't be here!"
"Just talk to me," she pleaded, rushing over to him and cupping his face in her hands. He allowed the contact for a moment, and she could feel him melt into the touch, desperately wanted. "I know something is going on with you, maybe I can help." With that, he looked like she had just punched him in the gut for the umpteenth time that evening. "What's going on, Lucifer?" she asked quietly as he pulled away from her grasp. He ran his hands through his hair, messing up the tresses, giving himself an endearing look.
He stared at her, eyes wide, red-lined, and watery. His mouth opened and closed a few times before he swallowed thickly, trying to find the right words to say, rather, any words he could say. "Just a lot of things I can't explain right now," he finally uttered, voice tight and direct.
"Can't explain, or wont?" she asked, her tone hard and demanding. She watched the combination of heartache and frustration on his face, his eyes drooping, jaw clenching and teeth grinding. She waited for some kind of response for what felt like an eternity of silence and unreachable desires. Enough was enough. "You know what? Fine," she said, holding up her hands as if to push his dread away from her. "I can't help if you won't let me." She said the last bitterly as she turned to grab her bag and head towards his door. "Pull your shit together, then come talk to me."
Lucifer watched as she was taking the last steps towards the door, and he immediately bolted forward to stop her. He couldn't talk to her, tell her everything that was going on, but he desperately needed her presence to keep him sane. To keep him present. "No, Professor, please don't leave," he pleaded, grabbing onto her wrist a little harder than intended. "Please, I'm sorry, please stay." He pulled her into his chest, wrapping his arms around her tightly. He could feel her sigh against his sternum, warm breath sinking past the material of his shirt and warming his cold heart.
She gave into him there, allowing his arms to circle her body and hold her close, almost squeezing too hard. She felt his chin on the top of her head before his lips, and then he was shifting so that he could kiss down the side of her head, towards her temple, and down to her cheek. Foregoing her lips completely, his mouth roughly moved around her jaw and ear, his longer abrasive on her skin as he frantically kissed her neck. "Lucifer," she called out softly, trying to grab his attention without breaking away from him. He either didn't hear her or chose to ignore her completely, holding her still for him to start to kiss along her exposed collar bone, shoving fabric out of his way when he wanted to.
She sighed into his ministrations, a frustrated noise as a mixture of heady want and the need to stop it. His hands ran down to her hips, slipping under the hem of her shirt and quickly groping as much of her skin as possible. He moaned against the hollow of her throat before swathing his tongue on her skin. "Lucifer, Lucifer, wait," she tried again, this time slightly pushing at him, but his hold was strong, and he gave no hint to stopping what he was doing. She tried a few more times, but when he started dragging them through his apartment, almost on a warpath to his bed, she knew he wasn't in mind for subtle hints.
He let them fall to his bed and he quickly rolled over on top of her, slotting his thigh between her legs and grinding his hips against hers. She honestly tried not to moan, but she was only human, even as her hands plastered themselves against his chest, trying to bring some distance between them. "Lucifer, stop," she said, this time more emphasis behind her words. He growled against the soft skin of her throat, scraping his teeth along the thin skin, almost painfully.
"Please, I just want to forget for a while," he pleaded, adding more enthusiasm behind his actions, full-on rutting against her at that point. "I don't want to think about anything else going on besides what my cock feels like inside you." He licked a line along her jaw before capturing her lips in a searing kiss. She rolled her eyes at the gracelessness of his words, but her body betrayed her, melting into his touch even more. Damn biology wanting the very hard dick trying to fuck itself into her hip joint.
"Lucifer, no, we can't do this right now," she groaned, breath catching and making her words sound insincere. He chuckled darkly, and she knew he heard that little gasp. Another betrayal by her own fucking body. Scruff was burning along her neck and jaw, and he was making those wonderful noises he made when he was desperate, but they couldn't do this, not with everything going on in her mind, and she knew that if she let him fuck her, his dick would erase all her worries upon penetration. "Lucifer, seriously, get off!" she yelled, and her tone was assertive, borderline mean, but it was necessary. He slowly leaned away, looking down at her confused and hurt before rolling onto his back next to her, clearly agitated, obvious bulge in his pants.
"Why?" he asked, venom-laced words, sounding younger and whiney than he ever had. She remained on the bed, pulling he knees up to her chest in a way to try to comfort herself. She hated conflict, and while she wasn't sure this conversation would start one, she couldn't be certain that it wouldn't. She bit her lip as she looked over at him, spread out on his back, shirt lifted slightly to reveal the tops of his hips. She looked away before she said to hell with being an adult and jumped onto him with the vigor of a lioness pouncing on a kill.
"Well, A, when I got here you were completely and utterly fucked up," she started, holding up a finger and turning her attention back to him. "And, B," she cut herself off, readying he nerves to finish her sentence. "B, we need to talk about something, and I need you to be honest with me."
"Clearly not too fucked up, my dick still works," he muttered, shifting so he was leaning back on his elbows, just showcasing that wonderful physic that made her knees week and panties wet. When he saw that her expression remained serious, and she didn't find his joke amusing, he rolled his eyes, but gave her his full attention. "I've told you, Professor, I don't lie."
"Yeah, but I feel you keep certain details to yourself." It wasn't so much an accusation as it was a statement, but Lucifer, clearly, didn't seem to take it as such.
"Seriously, what have I done?" he asked, voice remaining low, but irritation was evident in his tone. "I've done nothing but work, school, and you." She couldn't stop herself from noticing the way the corners of his lips turned up, just slightly, at the little joke he made without realizing. Even in this state, he didn't take himself too seriously. Even though his words were genuine, there was a shift to his expression when he finished talking, as if he was considering whether or not his answer was right, but he didn't add to it.
"Anything of significance going on at school?" she asked, doing her best to sort of lead the conversation towards Charlotte without just blurting the issue out. She watched his brows knit together, but they softened too quickly for there to not be something there.
"Same bullshit, different day," he replied lightly, sighing deeply, his chest expanding and really testing the tensile strength of his shirt's fabric. He peered at her from the corner of his eye, watching as she worried her bottom lip between her teeth. An act that would typically be sexy if it weren't for the disbelief in her eyes. "What is it you're wanting to ask me, Professor? You should know, I don't like to play these games." His words came out harsh, sighing as he through an arm over his eyes.
Chloe was, actually, a little surprised by his response. He was bold for a man high as fuck and getting caught in what looked like a suspicious situation. "Why are you meeting with Charlotte so much?" she asked, and she noticed that his face didn't really change. His expression remained neutrally agitated, but if she could have seen his eyes, she would have known that they darkened immensely at the question. Something in them dimmed; any light left in him dying out like a suffocated flame.
"Oh, let me guess. Daniel said something, didn't he?" She could hear the disdain in his voice, and she couldn't blame him for that. Lucifer and Daniel had had that sort of conflict you could see in a movie; two guys that didn't like each other simply for the fact that they were also a man.
"So it's true then? You won't deny it?" she asked quietly. She was hoping that he would have told her that Daniel had seen him once, maybe twice, and had acting obviously jealous about him being in close proximity to Charlotte. It maybe wouldn't have made her feel better, but, at the very least, she could play it off as a man feeling threatened by another for dumb-ass reasons.
"Yeah, I've had a few meetings with Ms. Richards," he started, emphasizing Charlotte's formal name to make a point. "It turns out that she was the proper admin to help me with a personal matter."
That was all he said; all he gave her. A personal matter. What did that mean? And what could the department chair for the criminal justice department, not even his degree-path department, do to assist him in personal matters? "Personal matters?"
Lucifer sighed again, this time it sounded more sad that irritated. He leaned up on his elbows, the definition of his abs slightly shading his shirt, making her core clench, but she was on a mission for answers, not there for cock.
"Yes. My estranged family of five years contacted the school, desperately wanting the status of my well-being," he admitted, his features going hard and bitter, as if he were tasting something foul. "Apparently Ms. Richards is the one deemed fit to correspond with them."
"So, you meet with her regarding your family?" She asked the question, even though it sounded ridiculous. She could understand one meeting, sure, but that didn't answer why her name would be brought up at all. Unless Dan was embellishing the story a little.
"Well, we're not exactly estranged for joyous reasons," he remarked sarcastically, swallowing thickly and rolling his neck, releasing a few pops. "It's complicated," he offered when Chloe did nothing more than look at him expectantly.
"It's complicated," she repeated, letting the words hang in the air just as loudly as their breathing. It was eerily quiet, and she hated it. He hated it, too. There should be moaning, crying out, gasping, when they're in the same room together. Not this heavy, dramatic bullshit asphyxiating their needs.
"Yes. My relationship, or lack thereof, with my family is complicated. I left England five years ago, abandoned, left for fucking dead, and now they're trying to come back into my life and control me again!" He hadn't meant to raise his voice, and he hadn't meant to tell her all of that. It had slipped out with all the hurt and rage he felt regarding Charlotte, Gabriel, and the still-missing Maze.
Chloe opened her mouth to speak, to ask him what the fuck he meant, but then she remembered his back, remembered the feel of the numerous scars, far too many to count, beneath her fingers when she clung to him. She could remember how they looked when she first saw them all those weeks ago; a stolen night at a pool. "Your back," she stated, and he acknowledged her words with a painfully aware smirk, raising his eyebrow as he nodded minutely. "Your family did that to you?" Her words were softer than they had been since she showed up at his apartment. He scoffed his response, not feeling the need to elaborate. "Why?" she asked, already knowing how fucking ridiculous the question was. Why would any family do that to someone? Why would anyone do that to someone at all? That was a question she had asked herself too many times on the job. The homicide job, that is.
"Back in England, my family is the largest crime syndicate in the country. No exaggeration," he offered, looking at her as if he had just discussed the weather. Numb to it, normalized to the wrongness. "Drugs, illegal contraband, money laundering, human trafficking, guns, political secretes… anything and everything you could think of, they have a hand in it." He watched as she let that sink in, her eyes going hard with focus. She understood what he meant, but she was just barely at the surface of a giant, criminal pool.
"It's my father's 'business', if you can call it that, and all of his children participate in their own way, under his 'guidance'." He finger-quoted the two words with obvious disgust. Chloe could see that, and she was beginning to grasp the parts of Lucifer that seemed to fit into that sort of living. "I dealt with a lot of it, he had me as an enforcer of sorts," he continued, eyes looking up and to the left as he recollected a past he wanted to forget. "Someone fucked up, I fucked them up, sort of thing. I think you understand."
"Yeah," she responded, knowing well exactly what he meant. "What happened?"
"I decided to not be such a good boy, tried to do my own thing, make my own decisions," he offered, stretching his neck as obvious tension started to form along his trapezius muscles. "I went outside of his divine rule, worked my own deals, had a little side thing going on. My father found out, and was not happy." He said it as if disappointment was any excuse for the torture he wore on his back.
"So your dad," she said, stopping from adding more to the statement, instead of making it a question.
"No, no, he'd never do that himself," Lucifer huffed, a small chuckle finishing off the astonished sound. "No, one of my brothers was the deliverer of punishment." He said the last bit with a flare of his hands, very much like the Lucifer she had first met.
"You haven't spoken to your family since then? Five years ago, you said?" He could hear the sympathy in her voice, and that made him sick. He didn't deserve it. If anything, he deserved for her to stab him, let him bleed slowly so that Maze could finish him off whenever (if ever, a thought he refused to let himself think of) she returned. She could shove her blade into his carotid, let him drain the remaining blood in him after Chloe stabbed him in the heart, leaving the blade to make the exsanguination slower.
Lucifer looked at her, opening his mouth to speak, and then closing it. He could easily say no, but that wouldn't be the complete truth, and it didn't seem that she would believe much of what he had to say. He couldn't lie, anyways. His eyes gave him away. "Not until a few days ago, after my brother contacted the school."
Chloe stared at him for a second, her brows knitted together as she processed the information. "The one who did that to you?"
"No," Lucifer sighed, seeming absolutely annoyed that he had more than one sibling he shared blood and history with. "Another, my eldest brother," he stated, rubbing at his eyes with her fingers. "I hail from a huge family; a mix of biological and adopted children. I'm one of the biological ones. Bully for me."
"So, after all this time, what are they wanting? Why contact the school?" she asked, her former profession coming out unintentionally. She was always pretty good when it came time to asking questions. Could always get people to open-up more than they realized.
"They couldn't find me directly," he told her, cracking the knuckles in his fingers loudly. "Maze, with her line of work, knows how to encrypt anything and everything, or has someone who can. My electronic footprint is minimal. How they found out I attend this University, I don't know."
She rolled that around in her head. Took in what he said… and, if she were honest, it sounded made up. And that's exactly why she believed him, up to that point. Usually, the stories that sounded so unbelievable turned out to be more truthful than the easier ones. "I still don't see what Charlotte, Ms. Richards," she corrected herself, trying to keep the creeping disdain out of her voice. "Has to do with any of this."
Lucifer grimaced; actually grimaced at that admission. They were getting close to territory he did not want to get into with Chloe. Never. "Charlotte took control of the correspondence from my brother after the business office received it," he started, shifting slightly from his position on the bed. He sat up fully, sighing, as if readying himself to bolt out of the situation. "She said she could help me sate their interest in my whereabouts while still staying under their radar."
Chloe nodded along. It made sense, to a degree. There was still a chunk missing. Why would Charlotte just decide to help Lucifer? Why would she insert herself into family drama when nothing even needed to be done about it. Lucifer was a grown man. He didn't have to talk to his family if he didn't want to. It just didn't add up, and, perhaps, if she had been a different person, someone who had not been a successful homicide detective, she wouldn't have picked up on that gap so hard. "I just don't see a motive for it," she said plainly, watching as Lucifer rolled his eyes behind his eyelids. "Why would she just decide to take on your family relations?"
"Oh, hello, Detective. When did this become an interrogation?" He took a deep breath. This was a cross-roads; not quite leading into territory he wanted to avoid, but getting close, crossing into the land surrounding the place the be avoided. He had one option, and one option only: come clean, about a portion of the bullshit he had spun himself into. It would be believable, coming from a person like him, and he hoped that it would stop Chloe from questioning him further. "She did it because we had already been meeting."
Chloe narrowed her eyes, taking in his annoyed appearance, one that did not want to be talking about what they were talking about. "Meeting about what? Me?"
"Yes, actually," he answered, cocking an eyebrow as if he hadn't expected it to be that easy. He braved a glance up at her and saw she was staring at him expectantly. "I asked her to make me your TA." Her face remained the same, like the information hadn't sunk it; hadn't hit her yet. "To get closer to you."
At that point, Chloe was sure he was joking. There was no way he would just openly admit that in such a nonchalant manner. Both of her eyebrows went up her forehead as she realized who she was speaking to. Lucifer. Lucifer fucking Morningstar. Stupidly attractive, wildly sexual, uber-seductive, tall drink of whiskey. Of course he would see that as no big deal. "So, you just waltzed your ass in there one day and asked her to make you my TA, and she, what? Agreed? Just like, 'sure thing, Lucifer'?" She watched as his face twisted into something disgusted, a scoff, as if what she was saying was ludicrous. As if what she was saying was fucking crazy. "No? Then what? Hm? Because you're telling me that you fucking worked something out to become my TA, get closer to me," she continued, anger rising in her stomach, the feelings of a rant just barely bubbling.
If she were being honest, she would yell and scream, tell him off, tell him that he lied, that he used something to get what he wanted. In all honesty, he did something to get closer to her, and it fucking worked. They became pretty damn close. As close as people can get, physically. He had been inside her, more than one organ on his godforsaken body had been inside her. While she had been entirely accepting and wanting that attention, knowing how it manifested started to make bile rise In her throat.
"I never thought," he started, shaking his head as he stopped himself. He knew whatever he said would be misconstrued, blown out of proportion. Rightfully so. He could feel the panic rising in his chest. On top of everything else going on, fighting with Chloe, feeling close to losing her was not something he needed. It was not the fucking icing on his shit-cake. The problem was, Chloe knew how to ask the right questions, and Lucifer couldn't lie. It was his principle. The one thing no one else could control of his: his honesty. Let's face it, integrity wouldn't be the right word. He had little to none of that left.
"No? Never thought what? Never thought going in there, asking for something, and being told, 'yep, would you like another obscure favor?' would actually happen?" She asked, clearly a rhetorical question. Luckily, Lucifer was smart enough to pick up on that. His shoulders slumped forward even more, caving in on himself in order to try to protect his exposed nerves. Protect himself from being emotionally beaten raw. Everything piling up, soon, he would have no skin left to mar.
"I know it sounds – "
"It sounds fucking ridiculous, but you're you. So, what? What did she get out of it?" Chloe interrupted him, standing from where she sat next to him, moving to put herself directly in front of his slumped frame. "Seriously, what could she possibly…" as she crossed her arms, she trailed off. Her last word had come out nearly a whisper, her body closing off before her mind could truly process what she was about to say. Her sudden stop did not go unnoticed, and she wished, prayed, that he would look up and ask why she had stopped. But he didn't. Instead, he seemed to curly further in on himself, head falling even lower, hands flexing as they gripped opposite elbows. "What did she get out of it?"
The silence was the answer. Even in his worst moments, Lucifer always had a witty retort. In that moment, he had nothing. He emanated shame in the furthered slump of his shoulders, the way his head dropped before lifting just enough for him to look at her in the eyes. At least he could manage that. He stares at her, in silence, and she can see his brown eyes glazing over, getting shiny and thicker, the lights reflecting off pooling tears. Even in the silence, she swore she could hear him begging, or maybe it was just the look he was giving her. It was an answer, but not enough of one.
"You slept with her," she said; a blanket statement, one to cover all the wrongs made with Charlotte. She watches as he struggles to swallow, and that struggle puts tears in her eyes. Not from sympathy, or pity, but from betrayal. The wetness in his eyes had yet to fall, and, honestly, it was a feat of gravity at that point. They should have fallen. She watched as his lips opened, fighting to form words, but she didn't care. She held up a hand, silencing him before he could speak. "How many times?" No answer. More tears form in brown and blue. "This whole time?"
She wasn't proud of how her voice broke with that last question, just as how she wasn't proud with the two tears falling down her cheeks as he bowed his head again, closing his eyes to hide. Even with all of it, she couldn't help but feel impressed. The man really never fucking lied. He just omitted what was necessary to keep his word and his dignity.
Chloe tightened the hold around her own body, sniffing to stop any more tears from falling. He didn't deserve them. "I have to go," she said softly, but sternly, turning around and going towards her bag back at his couch. Before she could take more than two steps, a large hand wrapped around her wrist, warm and strong, desperate. She didn't want to turn, but his other hand reached for her cheek, turning her face gently so he could see her.
"Chloe, no, please, it's not the same," he stammered, trying to pull her into him. She held her ground, and he didn't force it. "We're not the same. We're different, please," he continued to plead with her, but his last few words flipped a switch in her, and she went from hurt to pissed in all of a blink of an eye.
"I can't believe you just fucking said that." She ripped herself from his grip, despite his begging, and she grabbed her bag. His broken voice was distant in her consciousness, and all she could hear was the blood pounding in her ears as she opened his door and slammed it behind her, leaving him behind her. Closed off, like he was until it suited him.
Make woke to the loud bang of a metal door opening and being slammed shut. She hadn't even realized she fell asleep. She had no idea for how long. All she knew was that she was still chained, still naked, thirsty, hungry, and violated. She rolled her tongue around in her mouth; it felt thick and dry, making it hard to swallow. Her head was throbbing, probably from dehydration, and the bright yellow light leaking in through the papered windows was strong enough to make her squint. She shifted as much as she could, feeling sore and used, and not in the way she usually liked. There was a difference.
Gabriel was in her sights soon after her startled awakening. He was whistling some tune she couldn't recognize, and he was carrying bags of fast food and bottles of water. He pretended to not notice her, or he was just making her wait, because that's what fucking sadists did. Eventually, he grabbed one of the bags and one bottle of water before heading towards Maze. It pissed her off that he was smiling at her, looking all the man that got laid instead of the man that raped a tied-down woman.
He cracked open the bottle of water, lifting the lip to her mouth and tilting. She wanted to refuse, but her body screamed for something to sate her thirst, so she drank. She managed a few gulps before he took the bottle away. He pretended to offer the bottle again, but snatched it away just as her lips parted. He had the audacity to laugh at her before sitting down in front of her, cross-legged, comfortable and unthreatened. If Maze had any modesty left, she would have been embarrassed of her complete lack of clothes and his full set.
"I can see why Lucifer kept you close," Gabriel stated, not directly at her, but in her direction. As if he were narrating his thoughts aloud to an audience. "So hot, so tight," he added, emphasizing the t in a way similar to how Lucifer would. She hated hearing it come out of his mouth. It wasn't sexy, wasn't seductive. It lacked the charm Lucifer provided. He stared at her with an amused grin, daring her to try to say anything. She had nothing to say anyway. "The question is, what am I going to do with you once I've used you up? Hm? Once I make all those holes loose and useless, what am I going to do with you?"
She coughed, clearing her still-dry throat. "You'll need a bigger dick for that," she muttered bitterly, scowling at him as the grin fell from his face slowly. At first she wasn't sure what he was going to do, but the sharp back-handed slap across her mouth came fast, but expected. The flash of sharp warmth and the taste of iron indicated her lip had been split on her teeth. She sucked the wound, gathering the blood to spit off to the side, glaring at the man kneeling before her. "Sorry, what was that?" he asked, and when she sneered and opened her mouth, he back-handed her on the other side of her mouth. The taste of liquid metal strong on her tongue. "That's what I fucking thought."
"You think you could fuck me loose? Please. Lucifer has fucked and hit me harder than that," Maze argued, unable to stop the hysterical chuckle forming in her chest. "You're pathetic." Maze wasn't sure what made her say it, wasn't sure why she stuck her neck out and practically begged him to slit her throat. She was a fighter, and she promised herself to fight to the end. To not let them win. It seemed her mind knew the outcome of the day before the rest of them.
With rage and spite in his eyes, he launched himself at her, grabbing her throat in one large hand and sliding between her thighs. He pushed her head against the metal radiator, squeezing tight enough to cut off her air and oxygen. She could feel him fumbling for his belt between her shaking legs, and there was no way in hell she would make it easy for him. Using all the strength she had, she crunched her core and pulled him up with her legs around his torso. His head hit the radiator with a loud bang, and she could see blood trickling down the side of his face. Remembering her skills, she slid her legs up and around his neck, putting him in a triangle choke. Without her arms, it wasn't as strong, but in a situation like this, adrenaline was the perfect ally. She would have been able to hold, had he not been able to reach into his pocket and grab a knife. She felt a punch to her side, a cold, oxymoronic sensation of searing ice before her skin felt flushed. Her body responded before her brain, and her legs tensed before relaxing slightly. With a ragged breath, Gabriel shoved her legs off of him, kneeling as he caught his breath, bloody knife in hand.
Maze looked down to see her torso stained in red, the source coming from a two-inch incision to her side. A steady, pulsing flow of blood escaped her and she stared at it in disbelief. It wasn't supposed to happen like this. Before she could look up or say anything, Gabriel moved towards her, slowly, the winner of a battle coming to finish off the loser. The knife fell from his hands, a metallic sound ringing in the near-empty warehouse. She heard her own labored breathing, her pulse struggling, and Gabriel's gasps. He lifted his arms slowly, staring right into her eyes, savoring the moment as he wrapped his hands around her neck and pushed her head back against the radiator once again, increasing the pressure.
The large hands around her throat squeezed, closing off her air, narrowing the passage of blood to her brain. That was the thing with blood chokes; you were quick to lose consciousness, and only someone smart would know to continue to squeeze for at least six minutes after that. She let herself drift, for the first time ever, knowing escape wasn't possible. She couldn't even feel her limbs anymore. She let herself think back to the first time she let Lucifer take her, the first time she gave him control. The first man she had allowed in years. It was easy to pretend the weight above her was his, the hot breath over her skin belonging to him and not another. She wasn't naïve, and she wasn't weak. She knew they could have never been more than what they were, but it was still the deepest connection she had ever had. With a small smile on her face, tears spilling from her eyes, she thought of him; his face, hair, strong jaw, all of what made him Lucifer; their laughter filling the air after fucking themselves stupid.
That was the last thing she saw. Her last emotion was belonging. It was all someone like her could ask for. Warm serenity before the cold dark.
A/N: So if you're here from the beginning note, there's depiction of character death in second section of this chapter. If you don't think that's something you want to read, stop at "With rage and spite in his eyes..."
If you're reading this because you've finished the chapter... I'M SORRY! I know... I know... how could I, right? Just, try to trust me on this. Everything that happened is going to lead to that HEA that I promised a while back. I promise, it will get better! Please give me your thoughts, I love hearing them! *goes and hides*