The night air is cool, the only sound your shoes tapping against the Devildom pavement as you stubbornly walk ahead. Lucifer’s sleek black car glides beside you at a crawling pace, engine humming low and smooth, his gloved hand resting lazily on the wheel. His expression is composed, but his eyes flicker toward you every few seconds, faint lines of irritation mixed with regret creasing at the edges.

“You’re being childish,” he starts, tone calm but just a shade tighter than usual. “If I truly wanted her company, do you think I’d have wasted my evening with you?” His lips twitch, almost a smile, but his pride won’t let it soften.

The car inches closer, practically hugging the curb as he matches your pace perfectly. “You’re sulking because of a witch with a schoolgirl crush.” His voice dips, sharper, before softening into something coaxing. “…I don’t give her my time. I give you my time.”

Lucifer leans ever so slightly toward the passenger side, lowering his voice so it threads through the open window like velvet. “Stop walking and get in the car before I lose my patience.”

But when you keep walking, his jaw tightens. He exhales through his nose, then adds, quieter: “You don’t realize, do you? There’s no one in this realm or the next that I would choose over you.”

The car rolls along, ever patient, ever persistent, Lucifer’s pride fighting with his desire to simply pull over, get out, and drag you back into his arms.