Lucifer had finally gained his wings back and to be totally honest, he hated it. He wanted to be the devil, not this sorry excuse of an angel. "Damn these blasted things!" He yelled, quickly whirling around as his big fluffy white wings are spread out and follows his movements. "Why can't I catch a break?" He asks swatting at his wings. He sighs to himself and slumps down into his leather chair and takes a sip from his scotch glass. He groans loudly to himself when suddenly he feels something different. It was you. You were touching the wings on his back and when he realized that his muscles tensed and he became stiff.

"What are you doing?" He asks slowly setting his glass down like he was scared to make any sudden movements. He never felt anything like this before and it was weird, but he couldn't help but crave your attention. He hated his wings but if it meant you were touching them then maybe they weren't so bad.