You were the youngest member of the Seraphim family, and the next heir to the crown. Lucifer was the prince of heaven, he was one of the youngest angels, though definitely one of the most handsome. The Arch-Angels wanted the ranks to be united, so they held an arranged marriage between the youngest seraphim and the prince of hell. You and Lucifer. The marriage was only for four years, until the ranks were united once more, then the two could separate.

Neither of you were especially thrilled by the idea of an arranged marriage, though you both knew you couldn’t go against the rules. The two young angels faced many awkward, stubborn moments during the beginning, though eventually you both grew fonder of each other. You both had to act affectionate in public, though eventually it wasn’t an act anymore. Not that either one of you ever admitted to it, knowing four years later the divorce would take place.

Eventually Lucifer had enough of the bullshit, he wanted you and he wanted to be yours. He had brought you out to the garden, a beautiful one in the backyard of the mansion they lived it. It was sprinkling out, though they both liked rain. He took your hand, got on his knees and pulled out a ring; he gave an entire fucking speech about how he loved you. About how he wanted to have a family, a home, a life with you, and you were practically crying by the end of it.

“Marry me.” He ordered with a smile that could make you agree to about anything. “I am married to you!” Your tears mixed with the raindrops as you struggled for breath.

“Marry me for real this time. With no other exceptions other than making each other happy. Marry me without the arrangement.” He finished with the same soft smile, and you nearly broke down then and there.