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Carefully balanced on one of the bar stools, Lucifer sipped his drink. It wasn't his first visit to Earth, but it was certainly the first in a long time. He had been exceptionally busy since the Revolutionary and Great Wars. He'd finally gotten a break, and it just had to be during the second World War.
Lucifer’s attention was mostly on the whiskey he was drinking, but he kept one eye up so he could watch the piano player onstage. He couldn't tell what he was playing, but it was very soothing. Lucifer had always taken an interest in musical instruments, but hadn't cared enough to learn. He was enchanted by the song, but was quickly broken out of his trance by the air raid siren. He hadn't been through the procedure before, but he'd been watching the Earth enough recently to know what to do. Lucifer downed the rest of his drink, hopped off the stool, and followed the other club patrons to the bomb shelter.
As the 30 or so people filed in, the bombs could be heard beginning to drop outside. Lucifer rolled his eyes, crossed his arms, and leaned against the metal wall. He had been planning on being alone and brooding until the all-clear, but a mop of dark, curly hair caught his eye at the back of the shelter. Lucifer shuffled his way through the low chatter of people.
“You’re the pianist, aren’t you?” Lucifer flashed his charming grin at the young man. He only seemed to be about 25 or 26. His face was slightly rounded, and his curls framed his face just right. His face was peppered with freckles, and his eyes weren’t wide, but squinting just a bit. His eyes smiled as he returned Lucifer’s grin with one of his own.
“That’s me.” The young man placed his sleek black fedora back on his head and swiped his finger across the brim. He chuckled. “Edward Henson. And you are?”
“Lucifer.”
“Just Lucifer?”
Lucifer paused. He hadn’t thought of a surname yet. He supposed he’d need one for his time spent on Earth.
“Morningstar.”
Edward put his hand out, and Lucifer shook it.
“Nice to meet you, Lucifer Morningstar.”
***
Lucifer returned the next night. And the night after that, and the night after that. He was rarely anywhere else. He’d memorized Edward’s schedule, which wasn’t particularly difficult, since he played every night except Sundays, and left an hour early on Tuesdays. One Thursday night, while Lucifer was nursing a particularly full glass of whiskey, Edward approached Lucifer at the bar.
“Funny seeing you here,” Edward chuckled as he slid onto the stool beside Lucifer. “I’m kidding, of course. You’re here every night.”
“Except Sundays.” Lucifer nibbled on the olive from his martini. “I’m very disappointed you stopped playing.”
“I’m on my break.”
“No, no, I’ve been here every night for the past two weeks, and you’ve never stopped playing.” Lucifer smirked. “Did you stop playing just to come talk to me?”
Edward chuckled nervously. “Sidecar, please,” He said to the bartender.
“Ah, cognac man, are you? Never been much of one myself, and I should know. I’ve been around since before the Sazerac.”
“... The Sazerac was invented almost a century ago.”
“Indeed. I look good for my age, don’t I?”
Edward chuckled in disbelief and fascination. “Who are you, Lucifer Morningstar?”
“The Devil, actually. But I’m not here to talk about me.” Lucifer adjusted the lapel of Edward’s suit jacket. It had been sitting crooked ever since he sat down. “Who are you, Edward Henson?”
“Me? Nobody interesting.” The bartender set a drink in front of Edward.
“See, now that's where you're wrong. I’ve met boring people and you, sir, are not boring.”
The two sipped their drinks, smiles hiding behind their glasses.
“Where did you learn to play?”
“I had a private teacher when I was a boy,” Edward remembered. “Started learning about 20 years ago, when I was six. I guess it just kind of became a part of me.”
“Any chance you could show me the basics?”
“Depends. How late can you stay?”
***
It wasn't until around 12:45 am when everyone finally cleared out, and the club was officially closed. Lucifer and Edward were sat at the piano on the stage, Edward guiding Lucifer’s hands in an effort to teach him the beginner's version of ‘Fur Elise.’
“Alright, now, this--” Edward pointed at a key on the piano. “--is middle C.”
Lucifer pointed at another key that was definitely not the one Edward was pointing at. “This one?”
“No,” Edward said, chuckling with Lucifer. He picked up his hand, moving it to the correct spot. “Now, you place your other hand like this--”
Lucifer copied Edward.
“--and just play these few notes.”
Edward played the first few notes of Fur Elise, his hands acting as a bridge through the music. When Lucifer copied him, however, his fingers didn't have the same… finesse. He laughed it off, though, and the two men were together until the sun was peeking over the horizon.
***
“Edward, of all the times I've visited Earth, I do believe this has been my favorite so far,” Lucifer announced as he sipped his wine and dug his fork into his last piece of steak.
“Once again, I am completely confused by your meaning, but I will humor you nonetheless. Why has this been your favorite?”
“You, of course.”
“Me? Why me?”
“You are the most interesting person I've met on the surface of this planet.”
“Really?”
“Really. I haven't learned a single thing about you that's boring.”
Edward chuckled. “Well, what if I told you I’ve never traveled out of London?”
“Alright, I will admit, that does make you a bit boring,” Lucifer grinned. “Tell me, Edward, why haven’t you been drafted yet?”
“Dunno, just haven’t gotten the letter. Not that I’m complaining, of course.”
“Have you got family?”
“Not in London,” Edward frowned a bit. “My mother’s in Wales and my sister’s in America. What about you?”
“Well, my parents, they despise each other. Haven’t seen my mother in thousands of years, and my father betrayed me, so not much warmth on that front. And as for brother and sisters… I’ve got thousands.”
Edward chuckled in disbelief. It seemed to have become a habit in the time he’d known Lucifer. “I’m sure it can feel like that sometimes. My sister’s a right pain from time to time.” He, too, rested his forearms on the table, gently brushing their fingertips together. They smiled at each other. Edward quickly withdrew his hand, however, when the waiter came to collect their plates.
“Would you like to come over for a drink?”
***
“I have to say, despite my years, I don't think I've ever had wine this old.” Lucifer sipped the Sauvignon, his feet propped on an ottoman. Edward was sitting in the same position in the opposing armchair. “Remind me how you were able to afford this, again?”
“You’d be surprised how well a piano player gets tipped.” Edward stood up and set his wine glass down, making his way over to the kitchen. “Are you hungry? I think I’ve got some… apple pie--Aha!”
Edward pulled a pie tin off his kitchen counter and carried it over, along with a pie server and two plates.
“Where did you get that? The food rationing is so intense here, you shouldn’t even have a full fridge!”
Edward grinned mischievously and placed a finger to his lips. Lucifer copied his grin.
“I like your style, Henson.”
As the two sat with their feet propped on the coffee table, apple pie in hand, it rained outside, and they talked.
They nearly ate the whole pie.
As an air raid siren blared, the two men made their way downstairs and outside to the nearest shelter. They filed in with the other neighbors, pushing up against the wall to fit everyone.
“Seems we’ve come full circle, hmm?” Lucifer grinned, remembering their first meeting during the air raid at the hotel.
“I remember it like it was only a few weeks ago,” Edward chuckled. Despite the high concentration of people, no one noticed when Edward slipped his hand into Lucifer’s. Lucifer tensed up a bit at first, but quickly relaxed and started tracing circles on Edward’s hand with his thumb. They both jolted and separated when the siren blared again about 20 minutes later, but exchanged a look that said what the other was thinking.
I want this.
***
Edward and Lucifer were both exhausted when they returned to Edward’s apartment; So much so that Lucifer didn't even bother to kick off his shoes before he collapsed on Edward’s couch, where he had been sleeping for the last few weeks. He was only laying there for a few seconds, however, when Edward grabbed his hand and pulled him up off the couch.
“I was just thinking, you know, that you might want a break from the couch,” Edward offered, not breaking his eye contact with Lucifer. “It must be a hell of a pain on your back.”
Lucifer chuckled. “You are more right than you think.”
Lucifer placed his free hand on Edward’s cheek, hesitantly pulling him in for a kiss. It was soft and forbidden, and they both knew it. It didn’t last long--only a few seconds--but it meant the world to them. They both knew this was exactly what they wanted, and as they moved silently into Edward’s bedroom, they didn’t have to worry about anything else. Nothing would happen that night, and they both knew that. All they wanted was to be together.
***
The air raid siren had blared while Lucifer and Edward were outside. They were just outside the shop around the corner. The German planes had already swarmed, and Edward grabbed Lucifer’s hand and ran. He hadn’t held on tight enough, though. Lucifer was gone by the time Edward got to the shelter. Unable to leave, he sat frozen with worry until the siren blared again. He was the first one out of the shelter, and what he found shredded his heart without mercy.
Nothing was left standing. The shop around the corner, gone. His apartment building, gone. The newspaper stand he passed on his way to work every day, gone. Lucifer? Gone. Edward found his body among the rubble, his suit tattered and burned, and his legs and right arm broken. Edward fell to his knees next to Lucifer’s body and sobbed, not caring that he lost his home or belongings, only caring that he lost the man he loved.
Edward woke up in a cold sweat, frantic. Panicked, he looked around to make sure Lucifer was still with him. Once he found him sitting on the edge of the bed, holding his hand and attempting to calm him, Edward threw himself onto him, thanking God above that he hadn’t lost him.
“Hey, hey, Edward, what’s the matter?”
“The war--the bombs--I thought you’d--”
“Hey, it’s okay, I’m right here.” Lucifer pulled Edward as close as possible, wrapping his arms around him and kissing the top of his head.
“Lucifer?”
“Yes?”
“I love you.”
“I love you, too.”
It had been a few weeks since their first kiss. They had developed a routine, much like a married couple. Lucifer always woke up early, sometimes visiting Hell to check on things. Edward didn’t believe Lucifer was actually the Devil, and just thought Hell was a metaphor for wherever his work was. He wasn’t usually there when Edward woke up.
After holding Lucifer a little longer, Edward got dressed and met Lucifer in the kitchen.
“I won’t be able to watch you play tonight.” Lucifer kissed Edward gently and handed him a cup of coffee. “I need to pop down to Hell for a bit. Just take care of some business.”
Edward pouted his lips. “I can’t believe you have to work.”
“Don’t worry, I’ll be back before you know it. Missing me will only make it worse.” Lucifer kissed Edward again, not wanting to leave. “I’ll be there when you wake up tomorrow.”
“Hurry back.”
“Tomorrow morning,” Lucifer repeated as he walked out the door. “I promise.”
***
It was certainly morning when Lucifer returned, but not the morning he'd promised.
“Edward? I'm home. I know I took a bit longer than I promised, Mazikeen was being a right pain…”
The sun was pouring in through the half-open curtains, illuminating the dust in every corner of the room. The apartment was more put together than usual, and most of Edward's things were gone from the bathroom. There was a folded piece of paper sitting on the coffee table, next to a silver ring with a black onyx jewel on the top. Lucifer moved to open the paper, dreading the worst.
Lucifer,
I hope you got back safely, if you even get back. I’m still having nightmares. They got worse once you left.
I finally got my letter. I’ve been stationed in the 392nd Squadron, in Northern Ireland. I wish I could have been there to say goodbye, but I didn’t know when you’d be back and I had to report for my physical. I'll be back before you know it. In the meantime, keep the apartment clean for once, will you? It's still technically in my possession, so they won't clean it out unless I…
And hey, chin up. I'll be back before you know it. Missing me will only make it worse.
With love,
Edward
P. S. The ring belonged to my father. I'm sure you've seen me wearing it. I want you to have it. Something to remember me by while I’m gone.
P. P. S. Write me once you get home safely. You can reach me at the address on the front of this note.
Lucifer dropped the letter back on the coffee table. He picked up the ring. Giving it a small kiss, he slid it on his right middle finger and made his way out of the building. He practically sprinted to the newspaper stand, picking one up and throwing a few coins on the counter.
May 17, 1940
Two weeks. It had been two weeks since he'd left. Two weeks since Edward had his nightmare. Two weeks since he promised he'd be back the next morning.
And he never came back.
The first thing Lucifer did when he got back upstairs was copy the address Edward gave him onto an envelope and begin a letter to him.
Edward, He began.
I am torn apart by the fact that I abandoned you. I cannot believe I was not there to see you go. The fact that I may never see you again…
Lucifer sat back away from the letter once tears started falling. He twisted the ring around his finger, wiped his eyes, and continued writing.
I’m safe. I got home okay, and I’ll be right here when you get back.
He signed those few sentences with Love, Lucifer and sealed the letter. He put it in the mailbox downstairs to be collected. Lucifer held Edward’s pillow close—it still smelled like him—and waited.
***
It had been seven months. Edward hadn’t been home yet, but he was scheduled for leave at Christmas, and Lucifer was ecstatic. The letters they had exchanged had piled up. There’s another Edward here. Edward had said in his last letter. Eddie Hamilton. All he and the other men talk about is the girls they’ve got waiting for them at home. They keep asking about mine. I only wish I could tell them…
As Edward’s visit approached, Lucifer got jumpier. He was compulsively cleaning, something completely out of character for him. He would walk to the shop around the corner ten times a day just to distract himself from his excitement. When the knocks finally rang out in the apartment that day, Lucifer was confused at what he found.
“Telegram for you, sir.”
Lucifer hesitantly took the paper. He looked down, examining it. It was addressed to him.
“Hold on, how did this even get to me? I don’t technically exist, you know—”
Lucifer looked up. The man who delivered the telegram was no longer standing in front of him. A tall man in a long gray robe stood before him, his wings extending past the door frame.
“Amenadiel. Brother, what are you doing here?”
“Luci, I think it’s best if you open the telegram.”
“Amenadiel, what’s this about?” Lucifer’s voice was heavy with worry.
“Lucifer, please,” Amenadiel said forcefully. “Open the telegram.”
Lucifer cautiously unfolded the paper, finding exactly what he didn’t want to find.
DECEMBER 18, 1940
WE DEEPLY REGRET TO INFORM YOU THAT EDWARD JEREMY HENSON WAS KILLED IN ACTION IN THE PERFORMANCE OF HIS DUTY AND IN THE SERVICE OF HIS COUNTRY. WE EXTEND OUR SINCEREST SYMPATHY IN YOUR GREAT LOSS.
Lucifer didn’t bother to read the rest. Amenadiel could tell he was angry. His eyes darted around the floor, looking for words.
“Is he—”
“He’s in Heaven,” Amenadiel assured him. “He’s safe.”
“You need to take me there. Can you take me there? I still have my wings, I can—”
“You know you can’t go back, you’re banished.”
“No, but you can take me. You can, I don’t know, disguise me.” His voice began to break. “Amenadiel, I have to see him. I left him. I can’t do that again.”
“I’m sorry, Luci.”
Lucifer nearly collapsed on the floor in tears. Amenadiel caught him, holding him up as he sobbed uncontrollably. He folded his wings in, pulling Lucifer into the apartment and closing the door behind him. He gently lowered him onto the couch, but Lucifer didn’t loosen his grip. He was latched on to Amenadiel, his tears staining the upholstery and Amenadiel’s robe.
***
Lucifer never forgot Edward. He was invisible in the background of his funeral. He never took the ring off his finger. He even learned the piano, remembering Edward’s face each time his fingers touched the keys. Amenadiel managed to get Edward’s uniform cap for him to keep. It hung in his loft above Lux, his nightclub, framed and pristine.
“Who was he?” Maze asked one day, after finding a particularly drunk Lucifer quietly crying at his loft bar, the hat in his hands.
“Someone interesting,” He replied, twisting the black onyx ring on his finger.