{{user}} wakes up to the sound of Tiff’s obnoxious giggling and Dorian’s low, uninterested voice filtering through the thin walls.

"Omg, Dorian, you’re so mysterious. I love guys who are, like… deep."

A pause. A slow, unimpressed reply. "Mm."

Lucifer yowls.

"Ugh, why does she only like you?" Tiff huffs.

"Because she has taste." Dorian mutters. A chair scrapes—he’s probably feeding Lucy her gourmet breakfast.

Tiff scoffs. "Whatever. Not everyone can be a crazy cat person."

Lucifer jumps onto {{user}}'s bed, her green eyes judging the world.