Lucifer leaned back in his chair, the cool, amber light of the city creeping through the penthouse windows. The sound of the rain against the glass was the only thing keeping him grounded as he ran his fingers through his hair, reflecting on the whirlwind of events that had led to this moment.
His mind circled around the confession he'd just heard from both Lisa and Debbie. Two women. Both of them, seemingly unaffected by his reputation or the aura that had followed him from Hell, had admitted, in one form or another, that they desired him. The words still echoed in his head, leaving him with a gnawing question: was this truly their own desire, or was he simply playing with their hearts due to his inherent powers?
My mojo, he thought, his lips curling into a slight, bitter smile. The ability to make anyone crave what I desire. To make them see only me, only what I want them to see.
It was a gift, and a curse. He had always known that his presence affected people, that his very existence could bend them to his will. But as he reflected on the recent confessions, the last few weeks, and the way both Debbie and Lisa had acted around him, Lucifer began to wonder if their feelings had been influenced by his very nature. Could they truly like him for who he was, or were they just another casualty of his aura? His powers had been known to warp the desires of anyone who came too close. He couldn't help but think that maybe he had only made them feel something that was never truly theirs to feel.
What if they only think they desire me because of what I can make them feel?
The thought gnawed at him, stirring something dark and uncomfortable in his chest.
He glanced at the piano across the room. His fingers itched to play something, anything, to drown out the confusion swirling in his mind. He rose from the chair and walked to the grand piano by the window, its polished surface reflecting the dim glow of the city lights.
Sitting down, he rested his hands on the keys, the familiar sensation of ivory beneath his fingertips calming him, giving him a moment of clarity. Lucifer closed his eyes, the weight of the world slowly melting away as he started to play. A soft, haunting melody began to fill the room—slow, melancholy, each note like a drop of water into an ocean of thoughts.
He wasn't sure how long he played, the music pouring from him in waves. It wasn't a specific tune; it was more of a reflection of his mood, an echo of the turmoil within. He thought about his past, about Hell, about Michael. But more than that, he thought about the two women in his life, and how their emotions had become tangled with his own.
The sound of the piano became his sole focus, everything else fading into the background.
He didn't know when they had left. He didn't know when Lisa and Debbie had slipped away from the penthouse. But as the final notes of the melody lingered in the air, Lucifer opened his eyes, staring at the empty space around him. A strange sense of emptiness began to creep in, the silence of the room now deafening.
They're gone, he realized.
A part of him felt relief. He wasn't sure what to do with their confessions, or how to handle their feelings for him. And yet, another part of him felt... disappointment. It was as though he had wished for some form of clarity—some confirmation that he wasn't just a plaything for their desires, that they truly cared for him, not for what he could make them feel.
He took a deep breath, the weight of it all settling on his shoulders. He was Lucifer, the Devil, the fallen one. He had spent eons battling for control of everything, for dominance, for purpose. Yet, here he was, trapped by his own powers, torn between the idea of love and the reality of his existence. And it hurt more than he had ever anticipated.
After a few moments, he stood up from the piano, walking slowly toward the glass windows. He looked out at the city, the rain now coming down in a heavy, constant stream. The lights from the streets below glimmered like little stars scattered across the night.
His thoughts returned to the two women who had confessed their desires to him. What did it all mean? Was it genuine, or was he simply too powerful for them to resist? Did they desire him for the man he was, or for the creature he had become?
And more importantly, what should he do now?
The door to the penthouse opened with a soft click. Lucifer didn't turn around immediately, but his instincts told him who it was. Lisa. She had returned, though he wasn't sure what she wanted this time.
She stepped into the room, looking a bit hesitant, yet determined. The door clicked shut behind her as she moved closer, her presence a familiar comfort amid his internal chaos.
"You've been playing for a while," Lisa said, her voice softer than usual.
Lucifer didn't look at her, still staring out at the rain-soaked city. "I needed to think," he said simply.
"I didn't mean to leave like that," she added, as if to explain her absence. "I just... I didn't know what to say."
Lucifer nodded, still not looking at her. "It's alright. We both need space."
There was a pause, a silence that stretched out between them. Lucifer could feel her eyes on him, but he couldn't bring himself to look at her. The weight of her gaze was too much. He was still trying to process everything—the confessions, the desire, the way her words had affected him.
"I've been thinking," she said after a long moment. "About what I said earlier, about... wanting you. About the way I feel."
He finally turned to face her, his gaze steady, though his heart raced. He could feel the intensity of her emotions swirling around him, but for some reason, he didn't feel the need to use his powers, to look into her eyes and force the truth from her. It was as if he wanted to hear her say it herself.
"I know it's not easy," she continued, taking a small step toward him. "I know you're... complicated. But I meant it. I like you, Lucifer. Not because of anything else. Just you."
Lucifer's chest tightened, and he had to swallow hard to keep his voice steady. "You don't understand, Lisa. I'm not a normal man. You've only seen part of me. I don't know how to make you see—"
"I know," she interrupted, her voice softer, but unwavering. "I know who you are. And it doesn't scare me."
Lucifer felt a shudder pass through him. How could she say that with such conviction? How could she, of all people, accept him? He took a step toward her, his heart hammering in his chest.
"And what about Debbie?" he asked, his voice tight with emotion. "How do you think she'll feel?"
Lisa's lips pressed together, and she shook her head. "I can't speak for her. But I know what I feel. And that's all I can control right now."
For the first time in a long time, Lucifer felt truly vulnerable. It was as if everything he had built up—his walls, his barriers, his defenses—had come crashing down in an instant.
"I don't know what to do with this," he admitted, his voice hoarse. "I don't know what to do with you."
Lisa stepped forward, closing the space between them. She gently touched his arm, her touch warm and comforting. "You don't have to do anything. Not right now. Just... let yourself feel it. Let yourself be."
Lucifer stared at her, his heart pounding in his chest. Was this truly real? Was she truly real?
And in that moment, he realized he didn't have to have all the answers. He didn't have to know what the future held. For the first time in a long time, Lucifer simply allowed himself to be in the moment with her, with the feelings she had stirred in him.
Lucifer's penthouse felt unusually quiet as he paced the length of the room. His thoughts were heavy, his mind tangled with the events of the past few days. The growing feelings of both Debbie and Lisa toward him weighed heavily on his heart, or whatever was left of it.
This can't continue.
He rubbed a hand across his face, frustration brewing within him. No matter how many times he reminded himself that he couldn't afford to let these emotions take root, there was a gnawing sensation inside that threatened to unravel everything he'd fought for.
The sound of heels clicking sharply across the floor interrupted his thoughts. He turned to see Selene entering the room, her expression one of concern, her eyes sharp as ever.
"Troubled by something, Lucifer?" she asked, her voice low and cutting through the tension in the room. "You've been pacing for hours. Something on your mind?"
Lucifer didn't answer right away. He simply turned toward the bar and poured himself a drink. The amber liquid sloshed in the glass, the only sound in the room for a long moment.
"I don't know what to do, Selene," he finally said, his voice tight with frustration. "They both—Debbie and Lisa—they've both confessed to having feelings for me. But it's more complicated than that. It's... different." He set the glass down, fingers lingering on the edge as he stared out the window. "It's more than just my aura, Selene. This isn't the same as every other human I've encountered."
Selene's gaze never wavered, but her lips curled into a small, knowing smirk. "What are you saying? That you've finally let your guard down, Lucifer?"
"No," he snapped, turning to face her. His eyes were fierce, the weight of his words sinking in. "No, it's not that. I'm not human. I don't have the luxury of being weak. I can't afford to let myself get tangled in feelings." He clenched his fists at his sides. "But they… they're different. They see something in me. Something that makes them want me."
Selene's face remained stoic, but her eyes were full of understanding. "You're letting them get under your skin. You've always been good at manipulating others, Lucifer. Why not use your powers to make them see you for what you really are?"
He ran a hand through his hair, clearly conflicted. "I don't want to manipulate them. Not like that. I don't want to erase their feelings or make them forget. This time, I want them to see the truth. I want them to see that I'm not what they think I am." His voice dropped to a whisper, as though he feared even saying the words aloud would make them real. "That I'm nothing but trouble. That I'm dangerous."
Selene raised an eyebrow, stepping closer. "You want them to hate you, then?"
"I want them to turn away," Lucifer corrected, his tone sharp. "I don't want them lingering around, thinking I'm someone I'm not. If they truly care about me, they need to know the truth—the real truth. That I'm not some tragic hero to be saved. That I'm the Devil, and I don't belong in their world. They'll see that if I push them away hard enough."
Selene's eyes gleamed, a knowing smirk playing at the corners of her mouth. "So, you're going to break their hearts? Ruin their feelings for you? That's your plan?"
Lucifer hesitated, then nodded slowly. "I need to make them see the truth. The real truth. I've been too soft on them. It's time for them to face who I really am. If they truly want to be close to me, they need to know exactly what they're getting into. And that means making them dislike me. It's the only way."
Selene tilted her head, considering his words for a moment. "It's a risky move, Lucifer. You're playing with fire. You might think you're in control, but humans... they don't always react the way you expect."
Lucifer met her gaze, his jaw tightening. "I'll handle it. I've handled worse."
Selene studied him for a moment longer, her expression unreadable. "Very well. But don't come crying to me when it all blows up in your face."
Lucifer didn't respond immediately. Instead, he walked to the piano and sat down, his fingers hovering over the keys. The quiet of the penthouse seemed almost suffocating, the weight of the decision pressing heavily on him. The one thing he knew for certain was that he had to act fast. He couldn't let this go on any longer.
But how?
As his fingers began to play a slow, haunting melody, Lucifer's mind raced. He thought of all the ways he could push Debbie and Lisa away, all the ways he could make them hate him. But every idea seemed to feel wrong. They were both too innocent. Too human.
A frustrated sigh escaped his lips as he stopped playing, hands dropping to his sides. He couldn't think straight. Not while they were both so close. He needed time. Time to figure out what to do.
Suddenly, he glanced at Selene from across the room. She was watching him intently, waiting for him to make a decision, waiting for him to act.
"I don't know how to make them see," he muttered under his breath, mostly to himself. "They won't understand unless I show them... but how?"
Selene didn't answer right away. She crossed her arms, her gaze flicking to the window, her mind working as quickly as his. When she finally spoke, her voice was low and deliberate.
"You don't need to explain it to me, Lucifer. You already know what you need to do. You just don't want to admit it."
He glanced at her, his face tight with frustration. "What are you talking about?"
She smirked. "You're the Devil. You always have a plan. And you know exactly what to do. You just need to follow through."
Lucifer's eyes narrowed, a flicker of realization crossing his face. "So, you think I can push them away just like that? That I can make them hate me?"
Selene's smile was cold, almost knowing. "If anyone can do it, it's you, Lucifer. Just make sure you don't get too lost in the game. You might find yourself in deeper than you thought."
Lucifer stared at her for a long moment, considering her words. Finally, he nodded slowly, as if making up his mind. "I'll do it. I'll make them see. The truth. And they'll leave."
Selene turned to leave, her heels clicking sharply against the floor. She paused at the door, looking back over her shoulder. "Just don't forget, Lucifer—once you start this, there's no turning back. You're playing with fire. Don't get burned."
Lucifer stood up from the piano, his eyes cold and resolute. "I'm the Devil, Selene. I don't get burned."
With that, she left him alone in the penthouse, the weight of his decision hanging heavy in the air.
And as he sat back down at the piano, his fingers hovering over the keys, Lucifer realized one thing for sure—this was going to be a game he couldn't afford to lose.