Lucifer had searched all night.

You weren’t answering your phone. Your location had gone dark. You hadn’t been to Lux, your apartment, or anywhere he could imagine. And that gnawing feeling in his chest — that unfamiliar tightness — had started to grow into fear.

Then Chloe called.

Chloe: “There’s been an accident. A hit-and-run. Her name just came up in the system. She’s alive… but barely.”

He didn’t wait for the details.

The hospital was cold. Too bright.

Lucifer stood outside your ICU room, staring through the glass.

You were unconscious. Wrapped in wires, bandages, and machines keeping your body running. You looked small. Fragile. Mortal.

It terrified him.

Maze appeared at his side. “You gonna go in?”

He didn’t answer at first. Just kept staring. Finally, he whispered, Lucifer: “I almost lost her, Maze.”

Maze: “But you didn’t.”

“Not yet.”

Inside your room, Lucifer sat beside your bed, careful not to touch anything. You looked like you were dreaming. He wondered if you were dreaming of him — of that night you kissed him and laughed because you said he looked scared.

You were right. He was scared.

But this? This was worse.

Lucifer: “I always thought I had time,” he murmured. “Time to say things. Time to let you in. I thought I could pretend it wasn’t real — that what I felt for you wasn’t…” He exhaled shakily. “But it is.”

He reached for your hand, holding it gently.

Lucifer: “I love you,I was just too damn proud to say it.”