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Lucifer picked at his nail polish, a gift from Angel, as well as the free makeover he’d given the King. The makeover consisted of nail polish and a new outfit, as well as eyeshadow that complimented his overall complexion, and some lipstick. It wasn’t the best look, he thought, but Angel had assured him he looked nice, and Lucifer couldn’t help but think of how Alastor would react. It was stupid, and he knew that the radio demon had no feelings whatsoever (at least, that’s what he liked to present himself as, Lucifer was sure he had at least some care for Nifty), but he couldn’t help but feel nicer when he was around.
He stopped picking at his nails and sighed, closing his eyes and slumping on the sofa in the lounge, trying to focus. He had a book in his hands, open, and he was trying very hard to read it. I mean, it was barely his fault that he’d been distracted by Alastor! Speaking of, the demon popped up. At least, his shadow did.
It peered over Lucifer to look at him curiously, grin plastered on as always. Lucifer did nothing but sigh, waiting for the examination to be over, tired. He was always tired these days, let it be from stress, incessant pining, or something else. He let his eyes close, closing the book and leaving it beside him, putting his knees up to his chest and letting himself fall to the side, hitting the sofas arm and the pillow adorning it, a soft yellow one shaped like a star. It was some horrible decor, clashing with all the red of the hotel, but Nifty had put it there, and no one could say no to her. It wasn’t exactly that, actually, it was more along the lines of ‘anyone who said no to her would face Alastor’.
The shadow leaves the king's glasses on top of the sofa’s arm. Hey, he had lost his glasses! Charlie had called him crazy for losing them, telling him he most probably had misplaced them! To tell you the truth, he was starting to believe it. Maybe it was the lack of sleep, it could be eating at him in ways he didn’t know. He’d started to smell colours, and the red smelt of rotten eggs. Inconvenient, since it was everywhere.
Unaware of Alastor walking into the room, and having no words (for the first time in his life, probably) at the sight of Lucifer's makeup, he let his eyes close again. He does, however, notice when Alastor sits on the sofa beside him, mostly because of the weight and a faint static sound. It used to be annoying, although now he finds it a bit endearing, and he hates himself for it. That’s a bit of an overstatement, he doesn’t hate himself for that, it’s just… contributing.
Lucifer still doesn’t open his eyes, not feeling like talking. One good thing about Alastor is that he respects boundaries. Well, no, he doesn’t, he’s normally an annoying prick, but when someone really needs it, he does. So, the radio demon stays quiet, sitting up straight, staff leaning on the sofa, head slightly to the side, resembling the deer he is. He just stares for a while, and maintains himself faithful to the unspoken promise of keeping quiet.
After counting 376 wordlessly, a number he considers appropriate for the Devil himself, Alastor gets up, walking in front of him. He offers a hand, and forces Lucifer up when he doesn’t take it. The lesser demon leads him to his own room, whilst his shadow grabs the book and glasses.
The King doesn’t know what he was expecting, but it certainly wasn’t this. The room is surprisingly clean. Red, as the whole hotel is, which he still thinks is a bad design choice, but he won’t say anything about it if it ticks Charlie off. The wallpaper is peeling slightly at the edges, although the shadow quickly fixes it, giving him a thumbs up, whilst Alastor responds with an eye roll. There’s a dresser by the side of the room, with a big vanity mirror. Led to the stool of that vanity, he looks at himself.
“You’re tired, dearest King.”
Even showing some semblance of care, he still has that snarky tone of voice. Really, if he were able to smite sinners, Vox would be the first to be punished, but Alastor would be a close second.
He responds with the slightest snarl.
“Now, now. I was being caring. Or at least showing my worry,” He grins, and Lucifer glares at him, instead of himself. He reckons that’s better.
Alastor turns the stool slightly to the left, showing no effort, and kneels in front of him, now actually at his level. The blonde hates that he has to do that, and still glares at him, muttering a profanity. The demon in front of him just grins, grabbing some cotton balls and makeover remover.
“How come you have all this?”
“Hm, when I was captured at Vee tower,” Lucifer flinches at that slightly. “Velvette was the one in charge of me, you could say. When Vox wasn’t around, of course. And she adores all these cosmetic things. Really, she has so much potential, if she didn’t hang around with that flathead, being his lapdog, she’d be able to work with me.”
“Did you let her give you a makeover?” He grins, his worried demeanor fading.
“....Possibly.”
Lucifer barks out a laugh and sees how Alastor's ears, that were down before, are upright again. He doesn’t think before scratching at one of his ears, and Alastor stays impossibly still. The blonde pulls back like he’s just been scorned, and coughs, looking away awkwardly. The demon doesn’t say anything, going back to gently wiping the makeup away.
“Have you been sleeping, your Highness?”
He narrows his eyes at the question, not sure why he’d ask nor care.
“...Why?”
“You seem tired, that’s all.”
After a few more minutes of silence, and the removal of some particular stubborn eyeshadow, Alastor announces he’s finished. When trying to get up, Lucifer stumbles, and the demon catches his hand, frowning at the fact that he can’t even walk. So, he forces him to rest, orders him to lay down and sleep. Even if he doesn’t need to, the other probably does. When the blonde tries to complain, his shadow keeps him against the plush pillows. At last, Lucifer falls asleep, promptly using up all the space, although the demon finds he doesn’t care.