The door clicks shut behind me. Soft. But it echoes. Louder than it should. I don't move at first.
I just stand there, just inside the entrance, suddenly very aware of everything—the quiet, the space, the fact that I'm alone in his apartment again. With him. My chest tightens slightly.
"Relax," Lucifer says from behind me, his voice low, almost amused. "You look like you're about to bolt."
I turn quickly, crossing my arms without thinking. "I'm not."
A pause. He raises an eyebrow. I sigh. "Okay… maybe a little." That earns the smallest hint of a smile. Not teasing. Just… soft. And for some reason, that makes it worse.
"Come sit," he says, gesturing toward the living room. I hesitate. Then nod, walking past him carefully, like getting too close might do something. Like I might accidentally brush against him again and completely lose my ability to function.
God. This is stupid. I sit on the couch, hands clasped together tightly in my lap. Lucifer doesn't sit right away. He stays standing for a moment, watching me. Thinking. Then finally, he sits, on the other side of the couch.
Not too close. Not too far. The space between us feels… intentional. Like he's giving me room. Like he's trying not to push. And that, that does something to my chest.
"So," I say, breaking the silence before it suffocates me. "Explain." Straightforward. Because if I let this drag out, I'll overthink everything again. Lucifer exhales slowly, leaning forward slightly, forearms resting on his knees.
"Daniel," he starts. My stomach tightens immediately. "Is my ex," he continues. "We dated for… a while."
"A while?" I repeat. He nods once. "Long enough." Something about the way he says it feels… heavy. Not casual. Not simple. I swallow.
"…And?" Lucifer's jaw tightens just slightly. "We didn't end cleanly."
There it is. The thing I was worried about. My chest feels heavier. "Meaning?" I press, my voice quieter now.
He glances at me. Then away. Like he's choosing what to say. Carefully. "Meaning," he says slowly, "he doesn't like letting things go."
A bitter edge slips into his tone. It's subtle. But it's there. "And you?" I ask before I can stop myself.
The question hangs in the air. Too direct. Too personal. Lucifer looks at me again. This time, he doesn't look away.
"I ended it," he says. Simple. Firm. No hesitation.
Something in my chest loosens. Just a little.
"But he still thinks he has… some kind of claim," Lucifer adds, quieter now.
That explains the way Daniel acted. The comments. The tension. Still…
"That doesn't explain why you didn't say anything," I say, my fingers tightening slightly together.
Lucifer exhales. Long. Slow. "Because," he says, "you were already overwhelmed."
I blink.
"…Wjhat?" "You were nervous the second you walked in," he continues, voice calm but certain. "I could see it." Heat rushes to my face. "I was not—"
"You were," he cuts in gently. "And I didn't want to make it worse."
I open my mouth. Close it again. Because. Because he's right.
Damn it.
"I was going to tell you," he says, softer now. "Just not like that." Not in front of Daniel. Not in the middle of everything.
I look down at my hands.vAt the way my fingers are still slightly tense. "…It didn't feel like that," I admit quietly.
Silence settles between us again. Not heavy this time. Just… honest.
"I know," Lucifer says after a moment.
I glance up. His expression is different now. Less controlled. More real.
"I handled it badly," he adds. That catches me off guard. Because I wasn't expecting that.
Not from him. Not from someone who always seems so… composed.
"You did," I say before I can filter myself. A pause. Then.
A small exhale from him. Almost like a quiet laugh. "Fair."
And somehow.
That makes it easier to breathe.