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All around you, demons were raucously laughing and having a good time, clutching horns of Demonus in their hands, dancing merrily as they glided across the hall, and chatting happily. You were currently sandwiched between a few of the brothers as they talked, the conversation mostly substanceless but somehow entertaining nonetheless; you suspected it was due to the drunkenness of the brothers and yourself, having had the rare chance to partake in some wine from the human world. It had been under Diavolo’s orders that red wine be brought back in secret for the party since it was one of Lucifer’s favorites.
And, after all, it was Lucifer’s birthday, so everyone had spared no effort in preparing for the party at the palace, which was extravagantly trussed up like a Christmas Day roast chicken with decorations you were sure you had heard Lucifer call excessive, flamboyant, and a waste of Grimm on multiple occasions already, and sparkling lights leisurely floated from one end of the hall to the other, bobbing up and down slowly and changing colors now and then according to the mood. You’d asked if perhaps they were called fairy lights, owing to their magical and spritely appearance, but had only received snorts and laughs in response. You still weren’t sure what the true nature of the shining lights was, but thanks to the strange lack of an answer from the brothers—unfortunately, an answer in and of itself—you were now unsure if you even wanted to know what they truly were.
You turned your attention back to the brothers around you, their faces flushed and joyful as they continued to mindlessly argue over trifles and hurl half-hearted insults; you knew it was their own way of having fun and showing affection, anyway, even if they were noisy and sometimes troublesome.
“Stupid Mammon,” Levi slurred. “You still owe me Grimm from a few months ago! You’re so slow, I’ve been waiting for ages for you to pay me back…”
Mammon grunted in bare acknowledgment of Levi’s griping and crossed his arms over his chest childishly.
“Just gimme some more time! You’re so impatient. You’re just going to spend it on your weird dolls again, anyway. The Grimm is better off with me,” he pointed a thumb at himself, looking proud, and you stifled a giggle as Levi took a step forward and jabbed an index finger into Mammon’s chest forcefully, although his movements were slightly uncoordinated in his current stupor.
“H-Hey! I dare you to say that again. They’re figurines! The newest addition to the demon maid collection just came out.” Levi rolled his eyes sluggishly at Mammon. “You’re just going to be forced to spend it on those witches you’re a lapdog for again, anyway. Don’t think I don’t know what you do with my Grimm!”
“Oh yeah?” Mammon blurted. “Well-”
You tuned out the argument and it blended into the background noise of the party with clinking wine glasses, shuffling feet, and monotonous chatter as a movement in the corner of the grandiose hall attracted your attention—a dark figure slipped out of the hall quietly and disappeared. Without thinking, you automatically started briskly striding toward that exit before hearing one of the brothers call your name.
“Where are you going?”
You turned and put a finger to your lips, winking at Levi and Mammon playfully.
“Shh. Don’t worry, I’ll be right back,” you smiled.
Momentarily stunned, they stared at your retreating back as you walked away before returning to their conversation, although the argument from before had been forgotten in the wake of your departure.
With careful, swift steps, you made your way out of the palace and allowed yourself to walk the familiar winding path through the grass to the same place where you and many others had sought refuge from the hustle and bustle of the palace and constant company. You were rewarded with the sight of a silhouette you knew well. The wind swept by, a cool hand upon the awakening fever of summer, brushing your hair up into the air with twiddling thumbs. You found a genuine smile rising to your lips despite yourself as you took deliberate step after step toward the figure, the fingers of grass tickling your ankles gently and swishing with humming, wispy giggles that vanished into the humid heat.
“I thought you might be here.”
The pond sparkled darkly under the cover of night, and, of course, the Devildom’s eternal blanket of shade. Beyond it was the pale moon, a round and wan face upon the weaved sky, hung large and glowing softly above. But neither was as breathtaking as the being before you, who didn’t stir or turn at your words, just as they hadn’t made any sign of noticing your murmuring footsteps as you came closer and closer, each step but a whisper.
“What brings you here?”
His voice, smooth and dark, unfurled as a velvet cape, unmistakably present but carried away by the wind soon thereafter. You allowed a moment of reprieve, admiring his figure from behind, upright and strong, elegantly formed like the twisting dark trunk of a noble tree, each curve touched by nature’s care, weathered by storm and time but more beautiful for it. The moment held its breath, and you were loath to let it go, but all bend to the will of time, and you let it pass.
“I saw you leave the hall. I came looking for you.” You paused, your words hovering in the air. “I should be asking you that question. What brings the star of the party out here, estranged from the main attraction, and alone, too?”
For the first time since you’d found him, Lucifer turned to face you, but just halfway. His marble skin was a crescent moon as he revealed a sliver of his sculpted face, sharp features carved impeccably fine. From where you stood, you could see the slightest hint of a smile as those full lips moved ever so slightly, wavering from their usual curve that was barely a stone’s throw from a straight line. The moonlight shone upon you, gracious and captivating.
“Please,” he chuckled, rich chocolate ripples melting from his mouth. “We both know this party wasn’t my idea. If it weren’t for Diavolo, I would be in my room alone, enjoying a finely aged bottle of Demonus with the phonograph playing classical music and quietly enjoying my evening without the disruption of others.”
You cocked your head and offered a small smile, only allowing a trace of your amusement to show.
“Then...am I a disruption?”
You watched as he turned a little more toward you and as his smile grew a little wider—as if you could possibly look anywhere but upon him—and his laughter was a little louder, a little freer, and ever-so full, resonating deeply and tingling on the tips of your ears. To have more of his profile exposed to you was a blessing.
“You ask as if you don’t already know the answer. Were you hoping to hear it directly from me, perhaps?”
When he tilted his head slightly, his dark bangs swung, parting from him in gentle curves, soft voluminous waves you longed to comb your fingers through and muss before smoothing. Behind his lips, a rare sliver of his white teeth revealed itself, gleaming.
“And what if I was?” you posed, mirroring his smile, even if yours was only a poor imitation of the divine charm his possessed. “Is it wrong of me to do so?”
Again, he laughed; it didn’t matter how many times he laughed because each time was different, each time was novel and equally enchanting, like intoxicating gold nectar trickling down his throat, like a spell cast upon you. It was a spell you never wanted to break.
“No. No, it’s not wrong of you.” He put a gloved hand to his face, his smile appearing through the black bars of his fingers. “And...no, you’re not a disruption. You are the single exception, it seems. Are you satisfied now?”
It was impossible not to smile, not when the roots of joy had been nurtured with the delight of knowing you were favored by the profound existence before you, not when the roots of love had been fostered with the rich warmth of his radiant smiles and laughter. With Lucifer, nothing was just what it was; smiles and laughter went beyond, an inconceivable beyond—they ceased to simply be. They were more, a boundless more, penetrating the abyss of the sky above and the boundaries of realms or nature.
But you took care not to be lost in that beyond; forgetting to answer would be hardly mannerable of you, after all, no matter how remarkable the being before you.
“Very much so.”
It was all you said, and it was all that needed to be said. Your words stayed in the space between the two of you, immovable and forever remaining as present melted into past and future became present. It was a fluid interchange that could not carry your words away with the rush of the river of time.
He said nothing for some time, gazing at you, gazing at what seemed to be past you even as his gaze was settled firmly in your direction. He gazed closely at you, in a way that made the space between him and you wane into nothingness.
“Contrary to being a disruption, your presence here tonight has been a delight.” Such words from Lucifer were equivalent to praise of the highest order. “I hardly ever have you to myself, so I suppose I should count myself lucky to have you here right now.”
You were still as he took step after step toward you, closing the distance easily, and yet each step was laden with a dreamlike slowness, each step crossing a world and more. He drew ever closer, and his finger curled beneath your chin, his touch soft but controlled; the small point of skin-to-skin contact was more than enough to feel yourself fully ensnared in the claws of a wolf, unyielding and supported with force, or the threat of force. Everything was overseen by him, every minute movement, each shivering eyelash, each untaken breath, each staggering heartbeat. There was nothing of yours he did not dominate, and you lay in his grasp, him, a tyrant.
When he bent closer and closer, your eyes relinquished sight to the inevitability, and his lips upon yours were soft and tender, a kiss resembling the benevolent, gentle moonlight, the deep darkness of the pond, and doubtlessly the caress of a lover. When he parted from you, your eyes shuttered open and drunk in the glimmer of his rubied eyes. The absence of his lips upon yours was already apparent and unbearable. You searched him, his expression vulnerable and exposed as a blooming flower, and not any less beautifully crafted. You were disposed to bring your lips to his once again, but the unruly sound of stomping and miscellaneous racket behind you stopped you from doing so. Instead, you put a finger to his lips with a smile before withdrawing, like sharing a secret with him.
“Better not count your blessings too early. You’ve had me to yourself, but the moment was simply that: a moment.”
A weary smile appeared on his face, one you were long accustomed to seeing on him, and he brought a hand to his forehead as he shook his head in exasperation.
“Unfortunately, it seems that you’re right. Here they come,” he sighed, the breath long and drawn-out, pulled as a string of air from his lips. “They never fail to show up, do they?”
You laughed, unable to let your amusement simply fade into darkness this time.
“Indeed.” You allowed yourself another smile, purely fond, although you couldn’t speak for any other emotions that might’ve joined hands with your fondness. “Happy birthday, Lucifer.”
His smile was almost a boyish grin; it was unexpected and uncharacteristic of his mature and unrevealing half-smiles, and it was more endearing and handsome because of it. The edges of his eyes crinkled finely, barely anything but smooth, and if you hadn’t already been in love with him, you would’ve fallen in love with him then. You’d had all too many opportunities to fall in love with Lucifer, though, so maybe each moment was another reawakening, another rebirth, another falling in love with him, each time new and lovely.
“Thank you. It’s been a happy birthday thanks to you, after all.”
Your cheeks were set ablaze, and you tried not to fan the fire. On impulse, however, you allowed yourself to give in and steal another kiss from his lips, your arms hanging over his shoulders as you pulled him in. When you allowed him to pull away again, you were gratified to see that his cheeks were dyed with splotches of pink, faintly glowing.
Even as the two of you were separated by the group of rambunctious brothers, the heated, intimate sensation of his lips on yours and the vivid image of his blushing visage never left you. Now and then, you met his eyes, red as ripe pomegranate seeds, and shared a knowing smile. It was a happy birthday for Lucifer, and you supposed for you...it was a happy day.