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It had been exactly one week since you died. The whole ordeal was still a faded and fuzzy blur to your memory. The one thing clear in your mind was the desperation on Lucifer’s face when he tried to save you.
From himself.
Losing control was almost second nature to the Demon Lord of Pride. But sometimes he forgot that you, a mere human, were completely incapable of withstanding the sheer power of his anger.
So when he began yelling, eyes glowing a furious red as his voice cracked, you ran. You ran as far away as you could get from him. He had told you to do this whenever he was mad.
This time, however, you were too slow.
Your eyes met Lucifer’s as glass shards flew directly towards you, your mortal form completely vulnerable.
His eyes melted from rage and fury to devastation in a split second. He knew he couldn’t save you. And yet, he took off running, letting his own body be impaled by shards. It was nothing compared to the shards only inches from you.
You somehow smiled as the shards impaled you. The fact Lucifer was running to you was enough for you.
“Mc!”
His hand reached the small of your back, the red blood that was already dripping from your body staining his clothes and hands. He was shaking. Crying, you realised.
That was more terrifying to you than any prospect of death.
The fact that Lucifer was crying for you.
-
A week later and your ghostly form drifted after Lucifer in his daily activities. Somewhere inside of you, you wished he would just break down and cry. Mourn for you. But he didn’t. And he hadn’t.
Not a single time.
His brothers were concerned, someone always in his company. Almost as if they were caring for him, in their own, silent way.
It came on the eighth day. The fuzzy memories were hazing out of the blur and you felt your own heart aching. You still followed Lucifer, and for the first time in a week, he was left alone in his room.
It was then when he began to cry.
Tears streamed down his cheeks, making shallow noises as he tried to control his sharp breathing. It wasn’t easy to watch him like this. It was almost worse than the silence.
But it wasn’t.
The fact that he missed you, the fact he was still crying over a lowly human such as yourself? It soothed you.
He really loved you.
You loved him back, you realised. Not that you would ever be able to tell him. He would never know how much you loved him. How much his smile made your heart clench and butterflies swarm inside you. His controlled laughs made you grin stupidly.
His tears made him so human, so real to you. You hated seeing him cry of course, but loved to know that he could.
It was love.
It was definitely love. Nothing was ever so real to you as your love for Lucifer.
Is it really love if you can’t tell them? If you can’t be with them? If they’ll never see you again?
What use is such a one sided emotion?
-
Hell. You had decided this sick limbo you were in was definitely hell. The space between life and death. It was a month after you had died and you still drifted after Lucifer, watching his routine of careful work and refrained crying in solitude.
You yourself never shed a single tear.
How could you? This didn’t make sense. When humans died that was it. That was everything. Lucifer had told you this before.
There’s nothing left for anyone after death.
It originally resonated comfort to you, knowing your suffering would not persist if you died in pain. Knowing you wouldn’t be without Lucifer.
So what was this? Limbo… or torture?
It was when you were mulling that very question that Lucifer spoke.
“Mc.. I really fucking miss you.”
He wasn't talking to you. Though, for a brief second, your heart leapt and eyes sparked with a new hope. But it wasn't real. He was talking to a phantom, a memory of you. He didn’t believe you were there.
Halfheartedly, you sat next to him.
“I really miss you too.” You whispered.
Lucifer continued looking down, silently crying. “I think I really loved you.”
“Me too.”
“But I don’t think you felt the same.”
Your eyes widened, emotions plummeting into a slide of despair. “No! Luci! Lucifer I love you so much-”
“How weren’t you scared of me?” He murmured, fingers playing with the very shard of glass that had pierced your heart.
Your blood still adorned it, a solemn reminder you had existed.
“Pity? Sympathy? Respect?” He pondered, the shard pricking the ends of his fingers. Nothing came of it of course, being a higher power meant he couldn’t bleed.
Once again you were reminded how starkly contrasted your lives had been. A human and a devil. A lord and a mere mortal.
Someone that special had fallen in love with you.
And you loved him back.
“It doesn’t matter. I’m grateful.” He sighed, shard falling back into its preciously garden box.
His eyes flitted up to the ceiling, as if he could see through to the heavens themselves.
“I’ll still love you, no matter where you’ve passed on to.”
You finally cried, muttering back “I love you’s”. He didn’t hear you. You began screaming it, desperately willing for something, anything to grant you one wish. To let Lucifer know you loved him.
I love you. You felt your body becoming lighter, feet no longer seeming to be quite as before. You desperately looked at Lucifer, willing for him to hear you. Begging the universe, any number of gods to just let you get through to him. If anything in your life should have ever happened, this would be it. This was everything.
I love you. Your arms began shattering. Tears disappearing before they hit the ground. Ghostly form seeming to collapse into itself where you sat. And still you cried for Lucifer. You sobbed, eyes raw and searing as you continued to cry.
I love you. As the world seemed to explode into a bright light, Lucifer was all you could see. The one thing you cared about. Your happiness and pain, turmoil and joy all in one.
I love you. Lucifer smiled a small smile. He looked up, eyes meeting blank space where your ghost once was.
“I love you too.”