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"Lucifer?"
Trust my poor boy to struggle with sleep, the darling thing… "Yes?" I, of course, wanted to get as much shuteye as possible before starting on our mission, but I was more than happy to entertain him.
"Was there anyone before me?"
"I think you know the answer to that darling." If you were not aware, dear reader, Charlie and I were both quite prolific before settling down with one another. In fact, it was our insatiable natures that got us into a relationship in the first place, we slept with each other once and the rest is history. I know, not quite as romantic as most would expect from us lovebirds, but there's plenty more to that tale that I will share in another memoir.
He chuckled before tucking himself closer to me, his cheek pressed against my pectoral, a stray hand laid flat on my stomach. "I mean anyone you really loved, before me, that is." Ah, it’s that kind of late-night questionnaire then. The last time it was ‘Would you love me if I was a worm?’ which I was all too happy to answer with a confident ‘yes’, easing his mind. This question, however, proved to be a bit more in-depth than I’m accustomed to.
I leaned back to look my boy in the eye, sleepy confusion (concern as well) prominent on my face. "Do you want the truth or a sugar coated response?"
"The truth. I'm genuinely curious." Those beautiful eyes peered up at me, shining in the moonlight. "You never struck me as the kind of man who would settle down without some heavy influence."
"Ha. ha. ha." Sarcasm, dear reader, could always draw a giggle from Charlie. The most heavenly sound in all the universe (though I am a biassed man).
"I'm serious. C'mon, tell me!"
"Alright alright." I let a sigh out, wrapping my arm tight around Charlie, and ran my hand up and down his soft skin. Gooseflesh followed in my touch’s wake, he shivered. "Ages ago, when I was growing up, there was this girl I admired. We were the best of friends… And as we got older, I began to admire her in different ways…"
"Awww you had a crush on her," Charlie teased, wiggling his hips.
"Hush, you." I gently tapped his bum to tame his sass. "I did. So I asked her to date me, this was long before my admittance to the RA. And once I was a successful student with money of my own, I proposed. I genuinely loved her. We lived a happy life in No.9, she never showed any kind of grievance toward me… So you could imagine my shock when I found all her things gone, her engagement ring on the table, and a handwritten letter explaining herself."
"She left?!"
"Yes."
Charlie picked his head up, brows furrowed. "But you've always been a darling to me! I couldn't imagine you were any different with her-"
"I was always home late, she claimed she could never compete for my love of my art. What she didn't know is that I stayed late, perfecting my craft, so I could make a stable living… To support the family I had wanted."
Charlie's face fell into disbelief, his eyes pricked with tears. "Lucifer…"
"That night, I looked for every distraction in the book. And that's when I found myself at Bow Road, my employment at the RA started and my life was flipped on its head in mere hours."
"Well, joke's on her, I have you now. You're mine until forever." He nuzzled into my side, squeezing my torso in his strong arms, all but pressing the air out of my lungs as he sniffed away the tears that had welled in those beautiful eyes of his. "We have a family now."
"That we do, darling." I rubbed his arm and kissed his forehead, he smelled of soap. "The best part about all of this is when Chris found out about it."
"Oh good lord-"
"He broke into No.9 with strawberry champagne, ice cream and cakes in a bag. He looked me in the eye and said 'If that blasted woman doesn't love you, then I will.' He forced me to watch every cheesy romance move in the book until I was laughing instead of scowling."
A hearty laugh escaped his lips. "Of course Chris would do that."
Years after we spoke about my unfortunate past, Charlie and I wedded. I couldn’t tell you it was a grandiose event, or one that we spent months planning for… It was barely a proper wedding, if I were to be honest, but it was our wedding. Rudy (my brother) made it possible for us to get married, for us to adopt our child. I had the family I so longed for, they were within arm’s reach at all times. My little, amazing family.
We took Mycroft to the park one sunny day, going out together quickly became my favourite pastime, and while Charlie and Muffin sat in the grass picking flowers; I sat on a nearby bench. The sun dotted across my perch as it shone through the leaves of a massive tree. I wasn’t much for landscape and scenery from an artist’s perspective, but I could admire the beauty of nature when the situation called for it. I was a sucker for sunlight, natural light. Especially in hair and eyes, Muffin’s and Charlie’s.
Charlie’s eyes, when the sun sits low on the horizon and hits them just right, shine like jewels of fire and ice. His thick lashes only accentuate and frame the glimmering orbs set deep into his sockets. The first time I saw this phenomenon was in Italy, Hotel Santa Lucia. We laid in a lazy lover’s embrace and I dared to look down at my newfound lover… His gaze pierced through my soul, the way his irises absorbed the amber fire from the sky was unlike anything I had ever seen in my life. The most precious and beautiful gems in the world couldn’t compare to him.
And oh, my beautiful son… His fiery red hair practically glowed in the sunlight, the fair curls and waves bent the light in arcs of pure radiance. I could spend (and have spent, now) hours studying the way his hair captured the essence of the sun. And those eyes, so different than my own or Charlie’s, they held the universe within them. Innocence and wonder filled them to the brim, curiosity surely brewed within as he explored the new world he’d been placed on.
The little lad in question would periodically run back and forth between Charlie and I, showing me the flowers and items he found. His most proud discovery, hidden in the grass near the base of the tree I sat under, was a shiny five pence. Mycroft gently tucked his treasure into my breast pocket for safekeeping before skipping back to Charlie for more exploration. My darling boy waved at me from his spot, a flower tucked behind his ear, and I waved back, blowing him a kiss. I would have joined him in the sunny spot on the grass, but an injury from a recent mission had put me all but out of commission for a while. No strenuous activity and avoid sitting on floors until the scarring settles. Doctor’s orders.
“Lucifer?” A feminine voice broke my reverie. “Lucifer Box?”
I looked up to the newcomer and my mood instantly soured. “Olivia.” Reference to my previous talk with Charlie, Olivia (formerly Vespertine) Caskcut was the very woman who left me all those years ago. She parked herself on my bench and I made sure to fold my hands in my lap so as to not give any wrong signals. “What brings you slithering into London? I thought you lived the high life in France now.”
“That’s just the thing, Lucifer.” I didn’t bother to look at her, I could already see the feigned doe-eyed expression. It was pathetic to be honest. “My husband, he left me with nothing.”
“Oh, your poor thing.” I stuck my bottom lip out in mock pity. “And I care why?”
“I need you Lucifer.”
“Ex-fucking-scuse me?” The audacity of this woman, ten years of no communication, not even a proper goodbye after ditching our engagement with no more than a feeble argument she didn’t even have the gall to say to my face? I wasn’t even sure why I was tolerating her presence at that point. “Run that by me one more time, Olivia, because it sounded like you just asked me of all people for help I surely won’t give you.”
“Why not?”
“Because it’s you, obviously.”
"You wound me Lucifer." She huffed, surely crossing her hands in frustration.
"Not as bad as you wounded me." I wished desperately to be swallowed by the pavement, or for a limb to fall upon her head so I wouldn't have to deal with her nagging. "I'm trying to enjoy myself today and you're putting an enormous damper on those plans."
"All I'm asking is for a little help." Her hand brushed onto mine, I quickly withdrew from the unwelcome touch. "What's with you?"
"Olivia, I-" Before I could explain my situation, a little pair of arms wrapped themselves around my leg. "Bambino, amore." (Allow me to translate: My child, love)
"Papà!" He grabbed up at me, asking to be held. "Chi è?" (Who's she?)
"An old acquaintance, nobody to worry about, bambino." I finally graced my unwitting visitor with my cold gaze. "Olivia, this is my son."
"Y-your son… Are you speaking Italian with him?" Her eyes blew with wonder at the little boy in my lap. Though his stormy eyes glared back at her with an unnatural malice (he takes after his fathers when it comes to having a possessive streak).
I smirked, knowing I could ruin every predisposition she had about me in moments. "My husband is half Italian, he and my son speak almost exclusively in Italian, I speak with him in almost exclusively English. He’s learning quite fast and we’re very proud of him.”
"...Husband."
I felt a comforting hand on my shoulder and I looked up, meeting my boy's kind gaze. "Speak of the handsome devil himself. Hullo love."
"Hi." He planted a light kiss on my forehead before looking at my ex with a frightfully narrow gaze. "Who's this?"
"This is Olivia." Oh he knew who this was without me elaborating, I guess the aura of selfishness was just that prominent. “Olivia, my husband.”
He looked her over in a sweep before tutting. "I think you mispronounced 'treacherous bi-'"
Muffin tugged on the sleeve of Charlie’s shirt, getting his attention and softening his expression. "Bello, Bello, fa arrabbiare il papà." ("She makes dad upset" all too true, Muffin)
"Does she? Well we can't have Papà upset, can we?" Charlie leaned forward, crowding Olivia before scoffing. “How outdated.”
“Outdated!” She looked offended. “I’ll have you know this is from an exclusive French designer!”
“I modelled that collection unfortunately, we were a victim of bad management at the time, and believe me, it’s outdated. They tried their hand at a ‘retro’ collection, and it fell flat on its face. Not even resellers will buy that nowadays, you must be quite out of the loop if you’re wearing that.” Charlie leaned back taking in the rest of her outfit, my boy could put anyone to shame (fashion is his world, he lived and breathed it when he was on the clock). “Oh, cute, you’re trying to cover up your lack of taste with Gucci of all things.”
“I-” She looked starstruck for a moment, before finally coming to her senses. “Wait ‘modelled’... there’s no way.”
“Oh yes, there’s a way.” The smirk that crawled its way on Charlie’s face was positively shameless.
"Y-you're-" Olivia managed to stutter out, clearly recognising my dear boy from the magazines she so loved.
"Yes." Charlie looked over the rim of his sunglasses, his grin still prominent and absolutely smug, I adored his sass sometimes (though not all the time, mind you, his sass was an attitude to be taken in small doses). "Continue."
"-And you married him?"
His face fell, unamused and positively irked at her comment. "Obviously. Your point?"
"You could have anyone in the world and you chose Lucifer Box of all people-"
"I only wanted him, despite being able to 'have' anyone. He's the one I chose." Charlie put his hand back on my shoulder, possessively rubbing his thumb over the skin that stuck out above my shirt collar. My nerves set on fire at the small gesture. "My husband. Your loss. Lucifer, love, might I have our son for a bit while you…. be rid of your guest.”
“My pleasure.” I smiled down at Muffin for a moment, his grip on my lapels only increasing. “Bambino, lasciati andare ora, Bello ti guarderà per un po’.” (My child, let go now, Bello will watch you for a bit)
“No no, papà!” His little arms only tightened around me as he huffed, unmoving.
“I’ll be okay, promise. I’ll join you and Bello here in a moment.” I stuck out my pinky finger for Muffin to hook with his, I kissed his little digit, sealing the promise. “Go on.” He carefully climbed down from my lap and took Charlie’s hand to return to their picnic blanket in the sun. I turned my attention back to Olivia. “So, what more do you want considering I will not ‘take you back’ as you assumed I would after all this time? ”
“I-” She seemed at a loss for words as I addressed her coldly. Honestly, what could Olivia expect after she abandoned me and the commitment we both put effort into?
After she left me because ‘You aren’t ready for true love, Lucifer, everything you’ve done since we got engaged was for your own simple folly. Art this, passion that. What about us?’ Yes, what about us? What about consulting me about whatever bloody concerns she had before packing up and leaving without a second word? I could have made it very clear that my education was paid for, and we were not losing money by my study with the RA. My fortune was only growing by the minute, and if it was only money she was worried about, then she could kiss my arse and fuck off to the other side of Europe.
Okay maybe I still held a strong resentment towards that woman (correction: snake).
“Is it financial trouble?”
“W-well-”
“I assume I could do my part for charity this month and recommend you to my accountants.” I took my memo book from my breast pocket (making sure not to knock out Muffin’s shiny five pence), and scribbled down their information. “But if I were you, I wouldn’t keep my hopes up. Your history is a financial nightmare. Unreliable.” That was a bit more of a personal jab, but I could only assume the state of her credit was a jumble of unpaid credit cards and exorbitant spending.
“I-I honestly don’t know what to say Lucifer-”
“Then I suggest taking this piece of paper and never speaking to me again.”
She gingerly took the paper from between my fingers, hesitant. “There’s just… one thing I want to say, before I go.”
“What?”
“You did good for yourself, Lucifer. I guess people can change after all.”
“They can. And then some of us refuse to.”
“Lucifer, I’m truly sorry-”
“Sorry for what? Leaving me for money? Leaving me because I didn’t have a regular 9-5 like every other ‘successful’ bloke out there? Well the joke is truly on you, Olivia. I am successful.” She looked taken aback, but made no effort to leave. “I have an administrative job in the government, I make more money from art than you could imagine, I have an amazing family. I have estates all over Europe, I’ve got a full trust fund and savings for my son and an emergency fund for my husband in case something happens to me. You know nothing of success, happiness, or love. Things you so kindly outlined to me in that letter you left with the engagement ring I had proposed with.”
“Lucifer…”
“Olivia, just go.” It was time to cut her out for good, to end whatever bloody cycle she tried to rope me into.
“Okay.”
Breathe Lucifer.
As she walked away, I began to see red, my fists clenched. The gall of that woman-
“Papà?” A little hand settled itself on mine, patting me gently. “Papà?”
Mycroft. My son.
“I’m alright Muffin, no worries.” His hand wrapped tightly around my index finger as he led me into the sun, babbling on about how he and Charlie wanted to get ice cream. “Ice cream sounds nice, how about we go to that spiffy gelato place?”
“Sp-p-p-piffy,” Mycroft imitated the new word, trying out the syllables. “Spif-fy.”
“There you go lad.”
“Did I hear something about the spiffy gelato place?” Charlie joined us, the folded blanket in arm. “I think that would be wonderful.” Charlie let Mycroft wrap his free hand around his finger. “You alright love?”
“Much better, now.”
“Good.” He leaned over Muffin to place a gentle kiss on my cheek. Warmth filled my heart, replacing every drop of cold resignation.
“Oh, Papà?”
I looked down at the little lad, a smile on my face. “Yes?”
“Would you wove me if I was a duckie?” The English ‘L’ consonant was still a bit difficult for the little lad, and I couldn’t help but chuckle at the question.
“Of course I would! You would be the cutest little duckie ever, too.”
With a confident face, Muffin looked ahead once more, he nodded. Charlie, on the other hand, was desperately trying not to burst into laughter in the middle of the street. “L-like father, like son!” His giggles were contagious, for I followed suit only a moment later.
My beautiful little family. I love them.