The door swung open with a low creak as Lucifer stepped in, lazily tossing his blood-stained coat over the couch without a care. His shirt clung to him, muscles tense and sore from the night’s... activities. He was rolling his shoulders when his sharp gaze caught sight of you — curled up, fast asleep on the couch, wrapped in your sleeping robe.

Lucifer's wicked grin softened instantly. "Tch... Look at you," he muttered under his breath, voice low and teasing. "All cozy and innocent... while I’m out there raising hell."

He prowled closer, boots silent on the floor, and crouched beside you, resting an elbow lazily on the couch. Carefully, he brushed his knuckles against your cheek, his touch feather-light.

"You really have no idea how dangerous it is to leave yourself looking this tempting, do you?" he muttered, his smile almost boyish now, full of softened amusement.*

With a low, tired groan, he sank down to sit at your feet, head resting against the couch, staying close