Chapter Text
Paper Umbrellas
It was one of the stupidest ideas Lucifer had heard of since sliced bread. “Just slice it yourself, how lazy!” he’d thought upon seeing the glutinous squares in a bag while being forced to go grocery shopping with his ever so present ginger friend. He sighed and sunk farther into the couch cushions while Natalie grinned before him, a stick from the backyard in hand tapping an old notebook full of doodles. “Isn’t it a great idea?! It’s so cold out I thought we could have a summer party over break to beat the cold!” Natalie seemed very enthusiastic about this idea, but when wasn’t she? Satan flicked his eyes up to the scribbles of beach balls and plastic palm trees in what seemed to be the living room; he couldn’t tell as Natalie wasn’t much of an artist.
“Girl, I want to have a party in middle of this frigid weather like I want another contract. I already took you to the beach, what more do you want?” he muttered, not being able to meet her gaze. As annoying as she was, somehow something came over him that made him give into her demands every time. It bothered him constantly, and it was usually the driving force behind his teasing. However, as hard as he tried he knew she could see through his all bark and no bite attitude towards her most of the time and her spirit was about as hard to kill as a cockroach.
“You didn’t say no!” she grinned, grabbing him by the hand and trying to drag him off the couch.
“No. There, I said it. I’m spending my Saturday afternoon sitting right here and I refuse to give in to this nonsensical idea of a summer-themed party in the middle of below freezing weather.”
Half an hour later, Satan grumbled and looked down at his shopping list which Natalie had scrawled on an old envelope. He couldn’t believe he’d let her have the easy job of sending out invitations. Scratch that, why was he here at all? He shook his head to clear it of the budding thoughts that were appearing in his mind as he grabbed some half-price plastic beach toys off the shelf and haphazardly tossed them into the stupid cart that had a broken wheel. As always, the thoughts returned to haunt him.
He knew it wasn’t that Father-awful smelling cucumber-watermelon body spray she insisted on wearing or the days when she took up the whole couch just to text her friends, but he loved her all the same. Deep, deep, deep, DEEP down somewhere. He’d realized it down at the bar when he’d separated from her. It wasn’t just the hallucinations. It was seeing the bleak world for what it was without that little fire lit up in his chest that he’d had around her. There was no motivation, no pattern, just him alone with hell inside.