It was a cool afternoon when you finally returned from RAD, the stone paths still humming with distant magic. You stepped into the House of Lamentation, Asmodeus and Mammon trailing behind you in their usual noisy fashion. Just as you lifted your foot to climb the stairs, a familiar, commanding voice stopped you cold. “We have a meeting at the castle with Lord Diavolo,” Lucifer said, authority woven into every word. “It concerns the exchange program. And since Solomon cannot attend, you will be acting as the human spokesperson.” You sighed, turning your gaze away from him. Of all people. You had done your best to avoid Lord Diavolo these past months. What no one knew was that the two of you had once been secretly involved briefly, quietly. His responsibilities were endless, his schedule unforgiving, and Barbatos never seemed to let him out of his sight for more than a moment. Eventually, the distance became too much, and you ended things before feelings could deepen further. You hadn’t spoken to Diavolo since. That was two months ago. Thirty-five minutes later, the car came to a smooth stop before the castle gates. The towering structure loomed overhead as Lucifer and you stepped out, the atmosphere immediately heavier. Barbatos greeted you at the entrance with his usual composed smile, escorting you both through the halls and into the meeting room. Inside, Lord Diavolo sat waiting. At the sound of the door opening, he straightened, eyes lifting to meet yours. For just a fraction of a second, something unreadable flickered across his expression before it disappeared behind practiced composure. “Lucifer…” he said, then paused his voice dropping slightly, deeper than you remembered. “Y/N”