Chloe:

I'm not sure how long we stand like that but when I feel my legs start to get wobbly, I start to realize just how much of Lucifer's weight I'm supporting. Carefully I start to step back towards the bed, gently pulling him with me. Somehow, I manage to get him down on the bed, gently navigating him down to lay on his side. His eyes were just barely open, fighting hard against obvious exhaustion.

"Just rest." I whisper, pulling the blanket up to cover him. His eyes are closed now, and I can't stop the studder thump in my chest when I let my gaze linger over his face. Dark curls fell across his forehead, and his long lashes rested gently against his cheeks, leading my eyes to the clusters of freckles that disappeared down into thick stubble before landing briefly on his full, slightly parted lips. It was almost strange to see him so still but honestly it was such a relief to see him relaxed.

Deciding it's probably safe to leave him I carefully slide off the bed. Just as I'm reaching to turn off the bedside lamp Lucifer's arm shoots up, fast enough to make me gasp, and his fingers close softly around my arm. My mind flashes to the night I saw his scars, how swiftly he had moved to stop me from touching them. The pain in his voice,

Please. Don't.

"Don't go." His voice is so quiet that I nearly missed it. His eyes were barely open, but his gaze was low, deliberately not looking at me. "Please?" Another crack in my chest.

"Okay." How can I say no? I move back to the bed, sliding under the blankets to occupy the space he slid out of before the awkwardness of the situation dawned on me. Had Lucifer been in any other state I might have been uncomfortable, but I'm overwhelmed by desire to comfort him. Sliding one arm between his shoulder and pillow I snuggle close to him, letting my other arm fall across his waist, careful of where my hand lands on his back.

I listen as his ragged breathing becomes slow and even, feeling his body finally fully relax in my arms.

How the heck did I end up here? What is even going on? I thought I would come here and… what? What was I expecting? Not this! And yet…

The steady thumping in my chest, just a little too hard. The warmth that had started to build in my stomach. The quiet urge to shift even closer to him, to feel more of his body against mine.

Geez Decker, not the time!

But I couldn't help it. His "charms" never worked on me, but they never had to. It was undeniable that the man was well beyond handsome, always impeccably put together but the hint of his boyish nature that floated in his eyes somehow making him disarming. He was funny, albeit extremely inappropriate a lot of the time. But also incredibly sweet. And somehow, despite this evening's events, I can't help the buzz that I feel simply from holding Lucifer Morningstar.

Lucifer:

I'm not sure how long I was asleep, but consciousness creeps in slowly. I float the thin line between awake and asleep, just registering the warmth pressed against me. Keeping my eyes closed I breathe deep, inhaling a familiar scent that I can't quite place. After a moment I let my eyelids slide open, my gaze falling across the pillow to a wave of golden hair and… Chloe.

Reality crashes down… hard.

I quickly move to sit up but a jolt of pain has me fighting back a groan. More carefully this time I manage to extract myself without waking her, taking a moment to look down at her, peaceful and relaxed. I wonder for a moment why she is still here, Surely she should be far away by now. Could she have been drunk? I thought back, blurry images shifting in my head as I tried to bring the memories of the afternoon into focus. No, she definitely hadn't been drinking. So then why?

I closed my eyes against that throbbing in my back that was starting to move up my neck, briefly realizing that she was likely also the reason that I felt as bad as I did. But somehow, I didn't care. Looking down at her again a warm feeling started to build somewhere deep inside of me, new and unfamiliar. Pulling my gaze away I mentally clamped down on the sensation, not ready to explore what it might mean. Instead, I quietly made my way out to the bar, downing a large pour of scotch before refilling the glass and heading towards the balcony.

The sky was dark now. Though I was still unsure what time it actually was, it was certainly the very early hours of a new day. Leaning on the railing I let my gaze roam across the stars that can be seen over the dimmed city lights. The familiar fondness nudges at me, unable to stop the admiration of my own creations. Before… When the sky was endlessly dark, a blank canvas to be painted. And did I. Sweeping millions of points of light across the blackness, lighting up the universe. In that moment I had thought I would never see something else more beautiful… Oh how wrong I was.

My thoughts drift to her, trying to ignore the silent pull I felt knowing she was so close. But really, why is she still here? I try again to piece everything together, desperately hoping that my Devil face slipping out was just a hallucination or a dream, but the ache in my chest told me it wasn't. She had seen me. ALL of me. But she's still here?

I'm so lost in my thoughts, gazing out at my stars, that when something brushes against my arm I jump, my mind pulled firmly back to earth. Chloe is next to me now, though I never heard her approach, biting her bottom lip slightly, her beautiful blue eyes filled with concern.

"Are you okay?"

Her question snaps me back, quickly clearing my throat, "Yes Detective, absolutely, you just startled me." We both know that's not what she meant, but she lets it go.

"Sorry, I wasn't trying to sneak up on you." A slight pink rises through her cheeks and my heart rate quickens just slightly.

"Quite alright. Well, I imagine you should probably be getting home…" Reflexively I reach to adjust my cuffs before remembering that I'm not currently wearing a shirt.

Her hands catch mine, "Lucifer." I know she's waiting for me to look at her, but I can't. After a moment she sighs, "Look, you asked me to stay and I'm happy to-"

"What?" I do look up now, confused.

Her face softens and I fight the flutter in my stomach, "You don't remember asking me not to go?" It was part statement and part question, but the answer was obvious to both of us, "Okay. Well. I guess I can see that. Anyway, if you want me to leave now, I will." She glances down between us, our fingers still wrapped together, and back up, "If that's what you really want."

I search her eyes, looking for any hint of fear, or anger, or disgust… but I find none. "No." I finally breathe out, my heart catching when she flashes me a small smile. "But… Detective, I… I don't understand. Why are you still here? Why would you /want/ to be here?"

"Because you're my part- You're my /friend/. And you're in pain." She says it so simply, as if it was fact. I hoped for a moment that there was some reality where it could be that simple.

"But how can you care, now that you know. Know me, know who… what I am?"

Her fingers had slid between mine, her thumbs were brushing gently along the slides on my palms, "It's not like you haven't always told me."

"But you didn't believe me."

She's quiet for a minute, her gaze dropping before she responds, "I think… maybe… deep down, maybe I did. But I denied it because I was easier…"

I can tell she's holding back more, "Well, I guess you probably have a lot of questions then."

She gives a small laugh and the weight in my chest lessens just slightly at the sound, "Yeah, I do. But they can wait. It's the middle of the night. You should probably get some more sleep."

"I'm fine." Her gaze narrows, face stern. "But I guess more rest couldn't hurt." Her face softens again.

I let her lead us back inside and up to my bedroom, but I stop at the top step, finally noticing the state of her clothes when she turns. The front of her white top was completely stained blood red, the spots dry and caked matching similar large stains on her jeans. My stomach churns at the sight, my beautiful Detective, stained, soiled… by me. But she seems unfazed by it as she straightens the blanket, turning it down before turning back to me, looking nervous now.

"Do you still want me to stay?" her voice is quiet now, eyes fixed on the edge of the blanket she was still fiddling with.

I can't answer her. I can't lie. Of course I want her to stay. My body ached for her, to touch her, to hold her. But I can't. I shouldn't.

"I could use something a little cleaner if I do." She offers when I don't respond, and a small wave of relief washes over me. I didn't want to ask, but this is her offering. That's okay, right?

"Of course. Help yourself to my closet. I'll um, I'll be right back."

I retreat down the steps quickly and head straight for the bar. My hands are shaking slightly as I pour a drink, quickly downing it then closing my eyes to try to steady myself. She seems so calm. She's not running. Another drink. Why isn't she running? Could she really accept this? Accept me? And another. And she's staying? Here? With me? No, she should go. This isn't good for her. I'm not good for her.

I tip back another drink before turning back towards the bedroom, ready to offer to drive her home, or get her a car, but I stop short on the steps. I can't stop my breath from catching when I see her, settled on the bed in one of my white silk shirts. It was big on her, coming to end past the middle of her thighs, the sleeves were rolled several times, and the top couple of buttons were undone. I couldn't stop my gaze from sliding over the expanse of skin the shirt offered.

When I meet her eyes again, they're filled with concern. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have assumed…" She trails off as she starts to move to get off the bed.

"No!" I know my response is too eager, but for some reason the thought of her leaving is suddenly overwhelming. Calm down. "I mean, you don't have to go anywhere." I can't help the small breath of relief that leaves me as she settles back to the mattress, "I'd be happy to stay in the living room so you can sleep." One of us should be comfortable at least.

"You don't have to. If you don't want to, that is. We were fine earlier." Her eyes flash with an emotion I've never seen there before. It's gone too fast, but it sets my nerves on end. Still, she moves over and pulls the blanket back for me.

Suddenly I'm hit with just how tired I really am. The events of the last 12 hours feel like they've happened over long days or weeks. My arms and legs feel heavy, my head is buzzing with pain and fear and confusion. For a moment I can't care about any awkwardness to the sleeping arrangements. If nothing else The Detective is my… friend? Friends help each other, right? Maybe it could really be that easy. Something in the back of my mind wants to argue, but exhaustion drowns it out.

Instead, I find my way under the blankets, tapping off the light as I go, still aware enough to keep some distance between us. I have to lay on my side, so I force my eyes shut so as not to stare at her as the darkness settles over us. Something twists in my stomach again, the sensation curling up into my chest and making my body ache again. Through the pressing darkness I feel her cool fingers slide over my hand, hesitating for a moment before sliding her fingers into mine as she had before. It struck me how perfectly her hand seemed to fit into mine, like it was meant to be there. Her touch soothed the twisting in my chest, and the sound of her beathing filled my senses, somehow forcing my own body to steadily relax. I think I hear her whisper something faintly, at the edge of my consciousness, but I'm lost to sleep before I can piece together what it is.