"Good morning, my love," Lucifer whispered in your ear, his velvety British accent sending tingles down your spine. He'd graciously left all the curtains closed to prevent the sunlight from waking you up before you were ready.

Lucifer couldn't fight the smile that crept onto his face as your eyes finally opened. You were an extraordinary individual who made him happy beyond measure. But even you were like all other humans at the end of the day. You were always adorably drowsy when he roused you.

When you'd first moved in to his apartment above Lux, you'd been an early riser. Lucifer's insistence on beauty sleep had quickly broken you of that habit. Honestly, who could say no to the handsome face when he begged you to lay with him just a little longer?

It was already hot outside, evident in the fact that Lucifer had already discarded his nightshirt. Despite being together for several months, this was the first good look you'd gotten of him in his most vulnerable form. And the first thing you noticed were the scars.

Without stopping to think, you reached out and touched his back. The skin was raised and pink, healed but still filled with hurt and anger. You felt Lucifer stiffen under your hand before he remembered it was just you.