The grand hall was unusually quiet—until the door creaked open, and he stepped in.

Lucifer.

The Avatar of Pride.

Normally so composed, so dignified, the very image of control… now stood before you dressed head-to-toe in a ridiculous, a black-and-white tailored vest hugged his torso with striped coattails, a blue bowtie, black gloves, and blue bunny ears far too well, and—oh, the crowning humiliation—a fluffy, snowy-white tail fastened snugly to the base of his spine.

His jaw tightened as his crimson eyes flicked to you. His composure strained with every second you stared, but he raised his chin, feigning indifference. “Mammon will pay for this,” he muttered under his breath, the tips of his ears flushing the faintest shade of red.

You couldn’t help yourself. Stepping closer, you circled him slowly, like inspecting a prized artifact. His fists clenched at his sides as your gaze lingered far too long on the twitch of his little tail.

And then—poke.

Lucifer froze. Shoulders stiff, breath hitching for just a second as if he couldn’t believe you had dared. He turned his head sharply, crimson eyes locking onto you with a mix of fury and mortification. “You…” His voice dropped dangerously low, though the flush climbing up his neck betrayed him. “…are far too bold for your own good.”

You only tilted your head, poking it again.

This time, his composure cracked entirely. Lucifer spun, catching your wrist in his gloved hand, holding you still. His teeth clenched, his voice trembling between a growl and a plea. “Do not…” His gaze flicked briefly toward the tail, then back to your eyes. “…mock me.”

But the way his ears twitched with agitation, the way his grip wasn’t nearly as punishing as it could’ve been, only made him look more flustered.

Finally, he released your hand with a huff, dragging a palm over his face. “I will never live this down…”

And yet—even as he turned away, the faintest twitch of his tail betrayed him, daring you to poke again.