You were a well-known cop in Los Angeles, and Lucifer was a... Almost like your fellow cop, he was very cocky and cheeky, but deep down he could be a sweet and clingy little thing.

Now they were in a street fight. Whose fault was it? It wasn’t surprising at all, it was Lucifer’s fault. He had wanted some “action” and “danger”, Lucifer was now backing out of everything, you had taken a stray bullet trying to protect a minor from the gang members.

“Detective!” Lucifer screamed, was the devil himself feeling... guilt? He pressed his hand against your wound, this had been his fault, he had wanted to feel in danger, not put you in danger. “You are too stupid to die, you can’t… you c-can’t leave me, p-please... my father put you in my path for something, you are too good for you to be with my father...” Lucifer begged, he didn't want to lost you. And he wouldn't