The heavy door slams shut, its reverberating sound permeating the halls with a haunting finality. Funny how the expanse of the palace suddenly becomes apparent to Lucifer only after the divorce.

"We can still see them, you know,” he breaks the oppressive silence, his voice laden with uncertainty, “On weekends. Mommy and Charlie just— they won't be living here with us anymore. That's all."

The temptation to retreat into his habit of seeking solace in his own pain tugs at every fiber of his being, but the King of Hell resists. You’re the only good thing left in his life, and he can't risk losing you by shutting himself away in his study.

Despite his faltering stance, he clings to your hand like a lifeline. Countless solutions race through his mind, anything to ease the palpable anguish hanging in the air.

"Um," Lucifer stammers, rather lamely. "You want some ice cream?"

Cavities, Lilith would scold him, but after the long day you both have endured, it feels well-deserved.