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She knows. That’s all Maze had had to say for his heart to drop to his stomach, his entire body to go cold and hot all at once. Damn these mortals. Apparently, she had received a vision from his father - typical of him, really, to find out Lucifer has something good in his life and make it his personal business to destroy it utterly - and had asked Maze to have him see her, privately. That had been days and days ago, he was a coward and a bastard, he knew, but he wanted to cherish the good memories, etch them so deeply into himself that they couldn’t be wiped away by the newer ones.
When he was feeling particularly like wallowing in self-pity, he flagellated himself by pondering what they would be. Would she become incapacitated like Linda? Probably not, she’d had almost a week to come to terms with the facts of the thing. Would it be fear? Maybe, maybe not. She was brave, but this was quite a big thing. Disgust, hatred, anger? More likely. He felt sick. Which is, ultimately, what brought him to her door, when the not knowing had become so unbearable that surely the knowing couldn’t possibly be worse.
He didn’t know how long he’d been there, darkening her doorstep, when the door before him started to open. Reflexes dulled by sleeplessness and anxiety, he could do nothing but stand there like a dullard and allow her gaze to wash over him, her perfect mouth opening into a little o as she gasped in surprise. “Lucifer!”
That was neutral, he mused over the thundering of blood pounding against his ears. Maybe even friendly. Don’t get your hopes up, he warned.
“Come in, I’ve been waiting for you,” she stepped back, placing her bag down on the table and beckoning him inside. Another good sign, not so afraid of him that she would keep him on the doorstep.
She sat down on the couch, he remembered their first kiss on that couch, he’d been feeling particularly insecure whilst being framed for a series of murders, and to emphasize how much she trusted him, believed in his goodness, had told him so while punctuating each sentence with a soft kiss. His throat felt tight, and he took a seat on the floor opposite her, not able to bear close contact. He pulled his knees towards his chest, resting his arms on them and curling in on himself. After what felt like an eternity of silence, he couldn’t bear it anymore, “Say something,” damn, he didn’t mean it to come out so harsh, almost feral, “Please,” he added, embarrassed.
She spoke slowly, softly. “All this time - what we have - you know I didn’t believe you - I mean, is this real? Is this true? Us, together, has that been real to you?” She was crying, he saw, he wished he could avert his eyes.
“Yes, of course it has, every moment with you has been real to me, every one,” the words ripped out of him, “I love you, so much, I didn’t make you believe me, I didn’t want you to know, you deserved to know, you did, but I was a coward, I didn’t want - I needed you to - if you rejected me -” he was crying now, the words sticking around the lump in his throat.
“Lucifer, I love you.” She crossed over to his side of the room, guiding his head off his hands, to cup his cheek, meet his eyes. “This is a lot to wrap my head around, you’re thousands of years old, super powerful, and you want to spend your time being my boyfriend, let alone the philosophical questions this opens up, but I need you to know I love you, I will always love you, I want to know and love all of you, you don’t have to hide anything from me, I promise you.”
“Don’t say that if you don’t mean it, you don’t know everything I’ve done, everything I am,” he choked out. He had thought he had wanted this, kindness, acceptance, but it felt wrong around him, he didn’t deserve this. She deserved better.
“Then tell me, show me, you don’t have to be afraid,” if her voice had been harsh, he wouldn’t have done it, but it was so soft and undemanding, it broke him inside, if he didn’t show her, now, so that she could abandon him for a better life, he would never find the strength again. He revealed his devil’s face, sealing his fate, cast down, unwanted, reviled, monstrous, the worst -
“I do mean it, and I do love you,” she whispered, gently guiding him into an embrace, resting his head with its horrifically scarred flesh, tortured in the fires below, on her shoulder, cradling him in her arms. “I’m so sorry for this pain, you’re the last person in the world who deserves pain, I love you, I see you and I love you. Always.”
He was broken open in her arms, but in a way that didn’t hurt, not at all. He didn’t really know how to feel safe or wanted, let alone loved, but he trusted her to show him how and lost himself in the embrace.