Once again, Lucifer was pulling an all nighter. At this rate, he was never going to be able to say he got a good night’s rest. So there he sat, at his desk in his office, elbow leaning on the table with his head resting in his palm.

He looked awfully tired and looked like he had a bad migraine. He let out a heavy sigh and started writing again with his feather pen.

Upon hearing a knock at his door he spoke with a slight hint of tiredness.

“Who is it?”