five.

When Chloe awoke sometime that afternoon, it was to the melody of Trixie's muffled laughter. The corners of her lips pulled up into an involuntary smile at the sweet sound.

"No, Lucifer!" Trixie stage-whispered, sounding both amused and exasperated.

Chloe knew that particular mixture of feelings well when it came to her best friend. She opened her eyes, curious as to what the two of them were up to.

Her daughter had a hand to her mouth, clearly trying to be quiet for Chloe's sake, as she shifted her workbook away from Lucifer's meddlesome hands. As she removed it from his reach, his pencil scraped across the page, leaving behind a dark, jagged line.

"Well now look what you've done," he exclaimed as he stared down at the workbook from over her shoulder.

Trixie shook her head, her large brown eyes rolling up to regard him, her amusement catching the artificial hospital lighting and making them sparkle.

"Puff?" she requested.

Lucifer reached for the bag of Cool Ranch Puffs on the nightstand and held it out to the little girl. She shoved her hand inside, grabbing a puff and popping it into her mouth. As she munched on the snack, she flipped her own pencil around, scrubbing the eraser hard against the line in her best attempt to remove the mark Lucifer had made.

Her chest warmed as she observed them together—they were her two favorite people in the entire world. Watching her best friend, who had always been a little more than that, caring for her child, helping her with homework, making her smile, made Chloe's heart ache with longing.

Trixie looked up then and smiled when she saw that Chloe was awake. "Hi Mommy!"

"Hi baby," she replied, her voice still scratchy from her nap. Her gaze drifted to Lucifer, and he smiled softly at her, before she returned her attention to Trixie. "How was school?"

"It was good! We learned about sea turtles! The babies have to make a long journey from the beach to the ocean, and it's really scary for them. But the baby turtles are so cute, Mom!"

"They are really cute, aren't they?" Chloe said, and Trixie nodded emphatically in agreement. "What else did you do?"

"Me and Ava played with our Hatchimals at recess, and Miguel shared his Cheez-Its with me at lunch. Oh, and we practiced spelling, too." She paused for a moment to reflect on the rest of her day before adding with a shrug, "That's pretty much it. And now I'm doing my homework." She grinned, proud of herself.

"I see that. Is Lucifer helping?"

Trixie rolled her eyes, making her look much older than her seven years. "No!" she cried, another giggle escaping her lips. "He's trying to draw naughty pictures in my workbook."

"I am not!" Lucifer denied. "The human body is a natural and beautiful thing, Beatrice. There's nothing naughty about my drawing; it's simply…anatomically precise."

"He drew boobies for the letter 'B'," Trixie told her, lowering her voice to a whisper on the word boobies. She turned her workbook around and held it up for Chloe to see.

At the top of the page was a big, bold letter 'B' with a list of suggestions for things to draw that begin with that letter: bug, book, bear, boy. Underneath, taking up the entire page, Lucifer had drawn a stick figure person with a pair of huge round boobies.

"Tattle-tale," Lucifer hissed, though there was no real bite behind it.

Chloe covered her growing smile with her hand as she listened to them banter. She sent Trixie a sympathetic look. "You know, Lucifer and I used to do homework together all the time when we were in school."

"But I thought you never went to school, Mommy?"

"I never went to regular school, but I had a tutor and still had to learn my subjects and do loads of homework like everyone else."

"Did Lucifer try to draw naughty pictures in your workbook too?"

—October 1994—

Chloe stared at the blank sheet of lined paper on the table in front of her. Sighing, she turned her attention to the book splayed open beside it. She brought her pencil to her lips, worrying the eraser between her teeth as she skimmed the paragraph she'd just highlighted in The Giver.

Beside her, Lucifer loosed a quiet puff of laughter. Before she'd even turned to see what he was up to, a smile was already pulling at her lips. His eyes sparkled with mischief when their gazes met. He leaned back in his chair, linking his fingers behind his head, and with a self-satisfied smirk, nodded to his own sheet of paper.

Her eyes caught for a second on the lopsidedness of his grin before following his gaze. A loud laugh bubbled out of her mouth when she saw what he'd been working on so secretively for the past few minutes, even going so far as to use his arm to block her view as he had worked.

It was a stick figure drawing of her tutor, Mr. Bader—only across the top of the page, Lucifer had scrawled Master Bader instead. The stick figure had two squiggles for hair on either side of his head, accurately portraying Mr. Bader's bald patch in the middle.

Quickly bringing her hand to her mouth to smother her laughter, she glanced furtively around the quiet library to make sure no one had heard her. She returned her attention to the drawing, her eyes falling on the lewd act depicted below-the-waist to match the pun in the title of Lucifer's artwork.

"Pretty good, huh?" he whispered, leaning in so close that his warm breath tickled her ear and sent shivers down her spine.

She shook her head at him, hoping he'd attribute her blush to the crude drawing and not his nearness. After sending him a pointed eye roll and pushing the drawing down the table and out of sight, she turned back to her book report. He chuckled at her playful disapproval.

"Oh," he said, keeping his voice low and pulling her attention again. "Don't forget to ask your dad if he'll drive us to the movies this weekend so that we can see The Vampire Queen."

Chloe's face screwed up in distaste. "Wouldn't you rather sneak into a showing of Pulp Fiction instead?"

His eyes narrowed to slits, and it was obvious by the look on his face that he could see right through her attempt to change their plans by appealing to the side of him that lived to break the rules. He pursed his lips into an exaggerated frown. "You promised we could see The Vampire Queen for my birthday."

She heaved a sigh, her eyes rolling dramatically up into her head. She had promised, but she wanted to make it clear that was the only reason she was agreeing. "Okay," she relented, sending him a close-lipped smile. "I'll ask."

He hummed, eyes still narrowed in suspicion. Her stomach flipped as he reached for her hand, cradling it in his palm, surprisingly gentle, his skin warm and smooth—not at all clammy like she was afraid hers was. He clicked the tip of his pen out and scribbled a reminder in the center of her palm: Vamp Queen.

"So you won't forget," he explained smugly, holding her hand for a second longer before letting go.

Her mouth suddenly dry, she swallowed and nervously pulled her hand back to her side of the table. She stared at his handwriting on her palm, wondering how such a simple, innocent act could make her stomach erupt with butterflies.

In an attempt to hide her sudden bout of awkwardness, she ribbed him. "It's so weird how you're, like, the president of my mom's fan club."

He shrugged, unbothered by her teasing. He was unashamedly a fan of Penelope Decker. "It's so weird how you're not. Your mom's the queen of 80s cheeseball sci-fi!"

"Exactly," she agreed, her hushed voice dripping with sarcasm as she turned in her seat to face him fully. "Cheeseball."

Lucifer knew all about her complicated relationship with her mom. The pressure she felt to be perfect in all aspects of her life—school, acting, even taking care of things at home since her mom was away so much. Even when she wasn't away, the Queen of Sci-Fi could rarely be bothered with mundane tasks like dishes and laundry. Sure, she went through her sporadic phases of playing the role of a domestic housewife and all-American mom, but they never lasted long—and to be honest, Chloe was thankful for that, quickly growing tired of dealing with ruined laundry because her mother was too lazy to sort or read care tags and eating spaghetti and meatballs every night of the week because it was the only thing she knew how to cook.

"Her films are brilliant," Lucifer continued to gush. "I mean, Althea?! I know even you like that one."

"Yeah, she thinks they're brilliant too. Also still thinks it's 1980 and she's a budding young starlet and not a middle-aged mom. Her career is practically over, she just won't admit it." It was harsh, but sometimes people like her mother needed harsh, not that Chloe would ever say as much to her face. Anyway, Chloe thought perhaps subconsciously, she already knew it, and that was why all of a sudden, Chloe's career had become the focus of her attention—she was trying to live vicariously through her daughter.

Lucifer gasped in mock consternation. "How dare you. Her career is not over. The Vampire Queen is getting rave reviews."

"Yeah. I guess we'll be seeing that cinematic masterpiece this weekend, won't we?" she said with another eye roll and a huff of laughter.

Lucifer nodded in agreement with her verbiage, obviously choosing to ignore the underlying sarcasm in her statement.

And as much as Penelope's overbearing behavior annoyed her, a small part of Chloe—a part left over from when she was young and idolized her mom—still enjoyed seeing her up on the big screen, so clearly in her element and doing what she loved. And Lucifer knew it, too.

They were so engrossed in their quiet conversation that neither of them noticed they had company until the sound of a clearing throat and a nervous greeting pulled their attention. "Hey, Chloe."

Chloe looked up to see one of the neighborhood kids, Tom Ward, standing across from them. His fingers tapped nervously on the thick wooden tabletop. With a shake of his head, wisps of shaggy blonde hair shifted across his forehead and out of his eyes.

"Sup, Lucifer," he added with a small nod in Lucifer's direction.

Lucifer scoffed beside her, his only acknowledgement of the other boy an expectant raise of his eyebrow. She knew he hated Tom for the way he had teased them when they were kids. But they were all older now, more mature, and Tom wasn't the bully he'd once been. In fact, he'd been really sweet toward Chloe lately.

"Hey, Tommy," she greeted for both of them, blushing when his attention settled on her.

He glanced over his shoulder, back toward the table he'd been sitting at with his friends. They snickered and made encouraging gestures, urging him on. Bravely, he produced a cootie-catcher from behind his back and extended it toward Chloe. "Pick a number."

"Uh…" She bit her lip, shifting her gaze to glance at Lucifer out of the corner of her eye, already embarrassed that whatever was about to happen would happen in front of him. "Four?"

Tom opened and closed the cootie-catcher four times. "Okay. Now pick another."

"Six."

He lifted the folded flap labeled with the number six. The blush that colored his cheeks as he read over the words made Chloe's stomach flip in anticipation.

Taking a deep breath, he read aloud, "Shall I compare thee to a summer's day? Thou art more lovely and more temperate: Rough winds do shake the darling buds of May, And summer's lease hath all too short a date." As he finished reciting the lines of the poem, he lifted his gaze, shyly meeting hers. "It's true, you know. When I read this poem, I immediately thought of you."

She chewed on her lip, a mixture of embarrassment and delight turning her cheeks pink and making her insides flutter. It was new and flattering, having a boy show interest in her, and she couldn't control the way those feelings outweighed her embarrassment. The fact that he thought she was pretty enough to compare to the most beautiful summer's day made her heart thump hard and wild in her chest.

Beside her, Lucifer choked on an unimpressed laugh. She darted a quick glance at him just in time to see him roll his eyes. Exuding an air of utter indifference, he lazily twirled his pencil between his fingers.

Tom's cheeks turned red at Lucifer's unconcealed derision. "Something funny?"

When Lucifer spoke, his tone was dripping with condescension. "Oh, Tom. Tommy. Tommy-boy. That poem isn't as romantic or flattering as you think it is." He smiled up at Tom, insincere and mockingly sympathetic. "Might I offer you a piece of advice? If you don't want to make a mockery of yourself, do a bit of research next time before making such a grand gesture."

The blush on Tom's cheeks darkened, only this time from embarrassment and anger. Defensively, he challenged, "What do you know about poetry, Lucifer? You think you can do better?"

"Of course I can," Lucifer replied confidently, not a hint of doubt in his voice. Placing both hands on the table, he pushed himself up to stand, rising to Tom's challenge. "I know quite a bit about poetry,certainly more than you, and I also know Chloe better than anyone. I can already think of ten poems that would describe her better than Shakespeare's Sonnet 18."

"Lucifer," Chloe hissed, her cheeks bright red even as her stomach somersaulted at his words. She tugged on the sleeve of his shirt, hoping to get him to sit back down, but he yanked it free from her grasp.

She sighed, pressing the palm of her hand to her face. Of course, he was making a scene—it was Lucifer after all.

Spinning in her chair, she watched as he moved over to the bookshelf beside their table. Tipping his head back, he surveyed the line of books on the top shelf, and then gripped the shelf above his head, placing his foot on the bottom one to test its sturdiness under his weight.

"Oh my god, Lucifer," Chloe breathed, as she realized he intended to climb to the top. Her hand slid down her face to cover her open mouth.

Across the table, Tom snorted an amused laugh and folded his arms across his chest. "This should be good."

Satisfied that the shelf could hold him, Lucifer brought his other foot up, scaling the bookcase until his fingers brushed the spine of the book he wanted. "Don't worry," he called down to Chloe in a loud whisper, turning to look at her over his shoulder. He grinned, smug and triumphant. "I've just about got-"

But then the bookshelf began to wobble, and Lucifer's smile fell. Panicked, though she knew he'd never admit it, he quickly pushed off the shelf. The momentum landed him a safe distance away but propelled the bookcase forward. It toppled over with a loud crash that echoed through the silent library, books scattering everywhere.

Chloe stared at the mess with wide eyes, her hand still covering her open mouth. Lucifer met her gaze with a sheepish smile. Seeing that he was okay, relief washed over her, and the absurdity of the situation finally sank in, forcing a small, hysterical giggle from her lips.

Her laughter made Lucifer smile, his eyes twinkling impishly. Tears of joy sprang to her own eyes. She bit down hard on her lip and pressed her hand tighter to her mouth in her best attempt to stop from losing herself to full-on peals of laughter. Her chest shook with the force of her effort, her lungs aching.

A throat cleared loudly behind them. The librarian stood with her hands on her hips, a deep frown pulling at the loose skin of her cheeks. Chloe and Lucifer sobered quickly at her stern countenance.

A nervous look of remorse washed over Lucifer's features as he slowly made his way over to her. Tom snickered, likely feeling as though Lucifer had gotten his just desserts. Chloe shot him a reproachful look, which immediately wiped the pleased grin from his face.

She waited with bated breath as Lucifer talked to the librarian, his charming smile in place as he gestured between the fallen bookcase, himself, Chloe, and Tommy. As he spoke, the librarian's stoic face relaxed, her frown morphing into a genuine smile. Chloe chuckled, shaking her head in disbelief as she watched Lucifer work his magic.

The librarian patted his arm, saying something that seemed encouraging as their gazes drifted toward Chloe, but Chloe was unable to make out the words on her lips. Seconds later, Lucifer returned to her side. He looked so self-satisfied and proud that she couldn't help but smile in return.

"Well?" she asked.

"She's kicking us out for being disruptive," he explained, and her face fell. Maybe Lucifer wasn't as good as he thought he was. "But we're not in trouble, at least. She said she wouldn't tell our parents or anything."

Chloe nodded, relieved that she wouldn't have to explain the ordeal to her dad. "I still haven't even started on this book report," she lamented as she began to pack up her things.

"And I still have to finish my problem set for Algebra. Shall we go back to your house to finish up?"

They made their way out of the library, Lucifer trailing a few steps behind Chloe, so she missed the way he sent Tom a gloating look over his shoulder.

.

When they got back to Chloe's house, they beelined for her room. Technically, Chloe and Lucifer weren't allowed to be in her room if both her parents weren't home, but that was her dad's rule. Her mom didn't really care, and Chloe knew that her mom would be home hours before her dad that night.

Lucifer immediately draped himself across her bed, sprawling out on his stomach. He reached into his book bag, which he'd dropped carelessly onto the floor at the foot of her bed, and retrieved his math book, laying it open in front of him.

Chloe rolled her eyes from the doorway as she watched him make himself comfortable. Shaking her head at his audacity, she huffed a sound of annoyance—knowing it would go unnoticed—as she followed him into the room. Truth be told, she was more amused than annoyed, and she liked that Lucifer felt so comfortable in her space. She slid onto the floor, leaning her back against the edge of her bed, and fished her book report out of her bag.

Chloe had just managed to finish the introductory paragraph of her report before Lucifer cleared his throat, clearly intent on drawing her attention. She twisted her neck to look up at him curiously, noticing that his problem set was still mostly incomplete.

"What's the deal with you and Tom?" he asked, not meeting her gaze. "Do you like him or something?"

Her heart sped up. Lucifer's question and his blank problem set implied that his mind was still focused on what had happened at the library—in particular, on what had happened between her and Tom.

Could he be jealous?

At the thought, her insides warmed, butterflies taking flight. Even though she had yet to fully admit it even to herself, she had a huge crush on Lucifer. How could she not? He was cute and sweet and her best friend in the whole world.

Most of the time, she was good at pushing the feelings down. Lucifer was an enigma. He was one of a kind, which made her like him even more. But it also made him so confusing and hard to read.

Sometimes, she really thought he might like her, too—especially when he acted like he had at the library, jealous and showing off.

But she'd heard rumors from the kids in the neighborhood who went to school with Lucifer. She'd heard about someone named Maze, and how Lucifer had been caught under the bleachers with her doing more than just kissing.

It not only made her feel jealous, that he was experiencing those firsts with someone other than her; it also hurt, because he'd never even mentioned Maze to her or even that he'd had his first kiss.

They were best friends—they were supposed to confide in each other. It left her confused and hurt that he hadn't.

Her mind flashed back to Christmas last year and their almost kiss underneath the mistletoe. She wondered if that would have been his first kiss. She wondered how things might have been different now if her mom hadn't caught them then.

They'd been tipsy at the time, so it was hard to know if that kiss had been something Lucifer had truly wanted. They'd never talked about it. Maybe he'd forgotten it had even happened. Maybe he'd been so drunk that he didn't even remember it—she'd heard that that could happen sometimes.

Lucifer was her oldest friend—they'd practically grown up together. She didn't have any siblings, but her friend Kendra had an older brother who was really overprotective of her. Maybe Lucifer wasn't jealous at all and instead saw her like a sister—she knew he missed his own siblings terribly, knew how protective he'd been of them. Maybe he was just looking out for her the way an older brother would.

It was hard to know for certain, and she'd never ask. She'd rather curl up and die than set herself up for that kind of embarrassment. And she would never want to risk making things awkward between them either. Lucifer was her only real friend. She couldn't imagine ruining that.

"I don't know," she finally admitted. She was flattered that Tom seemed to like her, but she didn't really know him very well. "He's cute and is always nice when we see each other around. And, I mean, he did recite a poem that made him think of me. That takes guts."

She studied Lucifer's face, wondering how he'd react to her expressing some interest in another boy.

He opened his mouth to retort, but thought better of it. "I guess," he relented with a shrug, turning his attention back to his math problems.

"Why do you care?" she pressed, feeling courageous. Her heart pounded as he turned to look at her again. "Do you think it's weird that a boy might like me?"

"Of course not." He blushed as the words blurted on impulse from his lips. He seemed shocked that the thought had even crossed her mind. Quietly, he added, "You just deserve better than him."

A surge of warm hope flipped and twisted her guts, and she wondered if he could possibly mean himself. "I do?"

"Tom's a first-rate moron, trust me." Chloe huffed a laugh at the insult, unintentionally spurring Lucifer on. Through a smile, he insisted, "There's not a whole lot going on between his ears. He's an utter dumdum, a total idiot, an insipid dullard. One sandwich short of a picnic-"

"Okay, okay!" she said through her laughter. "I get the picture."

"Seriously, though," he continued, his smile fading. "He owes me, like, three favors for dictating his last few English essays. And he didn't even take the time to find a poem that really suits you. There are so many that would have described you better than Shakespeare's Sonnet 18."

Her cheeks warmed at his words. He'd mentioned at the library that he could think of at least ten different poems to describe her. Did Lucifer think of her while reading poetry?

"I didn't know you knew so much about poetry."

He averted his gaze somewhat sheepishly. "I just pay attention in English class," he explained, but his tone had an edge to it and Chloe wasn't easily fooled.

She squinted at him, waiting.

"Alright!" he gave in under her unwavering stare. "So I actually enjoy poetry! And what of it?" he said defensively, a protective layer of humor coating his words. She knew he was waiting for her to laugh at him, but she would never tease him for feeling passionate about something.

"I think poetry is beautiful," she said instead.

He smiled, slow and relieved, and Chloe's heart beat a little faster at the way it lit up his whole face. He admitted softly, "I've even written some myself."

"You have?"

"A few, yeah." He picked up his pencil and began to doodle in the margins of his problem set, embarrassed. She was sure he hadn't imagined their conversation going in this direction.

"Can I see something you wrote?" Her voice was low and gentle as she made the request. She'd never pressure him to share, but she was curious. Especially because this was something she hadn't known about him, and if she had to guess by the tone of their conversation, it was something no one else knew about him either. And Chloe wanted to know everything about Lucifer. She wanted to know him better than anyone else did.

He hesitated, the uncertainty in his eyes evident as they searched for the truth in hers. "You want to read something I wrote?"

"Of course. Why wouldn't I?"

He shrugged. "Because they're nothing special." I'm nothing special. How many times had she heard him express that sentiment? It made her chest feel uncomfortably tight when he belittled himself in such a way. She hated that he couldn't see what she saw when she looked at him.

"I'm sure that's not true, Lucifer. You have a way with words—at least...I've always thought so."

She watched the edges of his eyes crinkle as his lips curled into a pleased smile at the compliment. "You really think so?"

She nodded, a small and sincere confirmation.

After only a moment's hesitation, he relented. "Well then, I suppose you can read one."

She couldn't help the way her face split into an eager grin. Lucifer slid off the bed to sit on the floor beside her. Reaching into his backpack, he pulled out a notebook and began to flip through the pages, searching for the poem he wanted to share with her. He paused on one, his eyes quickly skimming it. Nervously, he pulled his lip between his teeth and held it out to her.

"Just remember, I'm still learning," he prefaced in a way that would soften the blow if she tore it apart, which she never, ever would.

She nodded anyway, gently taking the notebook from him and laying it atop her bent legs. He leaned close, his shoulder pressed to hers, so that he could read along with her.

did you know the stars

or was it told to you?

did you know the stars,

how they were formed in the image of creation,

how they bound up their radiance in iron and carbon,

how they burn with

every

last

bit

of my fury?

they die when they are ready,

alone,

untethered,

forgotten.

did you know the stars?

or did you just know me?

Chloe sat in awed silence as she finished the poem, speechless.

After a moment, Lucifer snatched the notebook from her lap. "Like I said, I'm still learning."

And she realized that maybe she'd been quiet for too long—but she didn't know how to express the way his words had made her feel.

"Lucifer," she breathed. Head down, he turned just enough to look at her out of the corner of his eyes, the warm brown of his irises shining tentative and vulnerable. "It's beautiful. You're really talented."

He stared at her for a moment, his brow furrowed as he studied her face, searching for the lie in her words. She stared back, blushing a little from his nearness and the intensity of his gaze. His features softened, and he smiled, small and hopeful. "Really? You liked it?"

She nodded, huffing a small laugh that he could think for even a second that she wouldn't. "Can I see another?"

"Um…" He bit his lip as he searched the notebook for another to share. Pausing on one, his cheeks flushed a deeper pink as he read over it. His finger twitched as he made to flip the page, but he hesitated. He read over it again and then lifted his eyes to meet hers.

Under the warmth of her admiration, his reluctance melted away, and with a shy smile, he passed the notebook to her, their fingers brushing.

yours was the only blood i saw in all those years,

the only blood i

touched,

that wasn't full of heartache,

wasn't tarnished by violence,

wasn't shattered on the porcelain floor; no

it was starlight and iron and wings

not yet formed; it tasted of

hope.

it was everything i desired even before

i knew.

it was you.

always

you.

As she read the words of the poem, feeling as though Lucifer had gifted her a glimpse into his soul, tears gathered in her eyes. She blinked, and one fell onto the page with a soft splat in the silent room, smudging some of the ink. Embarrassed, she quickly rubbed the back of her hand across her eyes, knowing that Lucifer had seen the rebellious tear.

They didn't talk much about the years they'd spent apart from one another, but she knew he'd been through some really difficult times. The pain he felt was evident in the first poem, but knowing that he'd had hope through it all, that maybe she was the 'you' in the second poem, made her chest ache under the weight of her jumbled emotions—sorrow, and love, and anger at how unfair it was that someone so bright had been dealt such a terrible hand in life.

She sniffled discreetly, blinking before more tears could fall. She turned to look at him, hoping he wouldn't see how emotional his poem had made her. Subconsciously, she lifted her hand to touch a star that dangled from the necklace he'd given her last Christmas. "Who's it about?" she whispered.

Lucifer was quiet for a long moment, his gaze locked on the way her fingers played with the charm at the base of her throat. His eyes lifted to meet hers, and he opened his mouth to reply.

"I thought you two were at the library!" Penelope exclaimed as she appeared in the doorway.

Chloe jumped, her mom's sudden appearance and overly-loud voice jarring after the quiet moment she'd been having with Lucifer. She brought a hand to her racing heart and sighed. "We were, but we decided to come back here to finish up."

Penelope smiled. "Are you hungry? How about a snack?"

"Sure, Mom. A snack would be great," Chloe said, not even trying to hide her annoyance. She just wanted her mom to leave so that Lucifer would answer her question.

"Alright! Be back in a jiffy."

Chloe turned back to Lucifer, but he avoided her gaze. He slid his poetry notebook off her lap and shoved it into his book bag.

"I really need to finish this problem set," he said, pushing himself up off the floor to return to his previous spot on her bed.

She bit her lip, trying to hide her disappointment. "Yeah. This book report isn't gonna write itself."


Chloe watched as Lucifer's eyes drooped, his head nodding forward. She knew he was tired, figured he'd slept just as poorly as she had the previous night. She glanced toward the other side of the room where Trixie lay curled in Penelope's lap, fast asleep. Penelope's gaze was on the TV that played the end of the Disney Channel movie they'd all been watching.

"Lucifer," Chloe called softly, giggling a little as he startled from his doze, his head snapping up, his eyes wide as they landed on her. Immediately, his features softened as his gaze mapped over her, and she couldn't help but feel warm all over at the way he looked at her.

"Hmm?"

"You should go home. Get some rest."

"What?" His brow furrowed. "No, I'll stay here tonight in case you need something."

She pursed her lips, biting at the inside to suppress her grin at his thoughtfulness. "Mom's gonna stay." She turned to glance at Penelope who was pretending not to listen in on their hushed conversation. "Right, Mom?"

Penelope nodded. "I'll be here."

"See?" She turned back to Lucifer. Lowering her voice again, she said, "You look tired."

"I didn't sleep well last night," he admitted, just as soft. "Was worried about you."

This time, she couldn't contain her smile. It hurt, pulling at her bruised cheeks, but she didn't care. Her heart was full, her stomach warm. She held her hand out to him. "Come here."

He stood from his chair and crossed the short distance to hover over her bed. Reaching up, she pressed her hand to his cheek. His eyes closed as he leaned into her touch, and suddenly, she didn't care that her mom was in the room or that she and Lucifer hadn't yet talked about how their relationship seemed to be changing. She just wanted him close.

Her fingers slipped behind his neck, her nails scratching into the short hair at his nape, and she gave a gentle tug to pull him down to her. Their lips met, soft and warm. When she pulled away, she took note of the delicate way his eyelids fluttered before opening. He let his forehead rest against hers as their gazes locked, his brown eyes so warm and familiar to her. A calming wave of peace and comfort washed over her, feelings that she only ever felt to that extent when he was near.

"Once I get out of here," she whispered, looking up at him through her eyelashes, "we'll talk…about us, yeah?"

He swallowed and nodded. She shook her head a little so that her nose could rub against his, making Lucifer smile.

"Are you sure you don't want me to stay?"

"I want you to get some sleep," she replied, her fingertips scraping gently along his stubbled jaw. Of course, she wanted him to stay, but she knew he'd sleep better in his own bed. "I'll still be here in the morning."

"I'll be back first thing," he reassured, although it was unnecessary.

"I know you will."

He straightened and glanced at the other occupants in the room. "Will you tell the urchin I said goodbye and that I'll see her tomorrow?"

"Mhm. I'll tell her."

Lucifer brought her hand to his lips and dropped a kiss to her knuckles. Then, with a goodbye nod sent in Penelope's direction, he left for the night.

Chloe turned toward her mom, Penelope's brow raised in curiosity at the sight she'd just witnessed. But Chloe was too tired to get into it now, especially since she and Lucifer hadn't even talked themselves. So, she sent her mom a tight smile and small shrug, before letting her head fall back against her pillows, her eyes falling closed once more.


Lucifer flounced across the hospital parking lot with a pep in his step and hope in his heart. Chloe's words rang in his ears as the feel of her lips lingered on his. The future—their future—seemed full of promise.

As he slid into the driver's seat, his phone rang. A smile crept across his face as he glanced down at the screen.

Frank.

With a swipe of his thumb, he answered the call. "Padre!"

"Hey, Lucifer," the warm familiar baritone greeted over the line. "I got your message about Chloe. How is she?"


A/N: Hi! I'm not sure if I should continue to post this story on this site - I don't think many people are reading it here and I don't get much feedback on it. I post on AO3, but if you want me to continue posting here, drop a note and let me know if you're enjoying it or not! :)

The poetry in this chapter was written by the amazingly talented redledgers on ao3.