The blood never truly leaves his hands. Uriel is gone because of him, erased by Azrael's Blade, a fate no angel should have suffered. Lucifer has replayed the moment countless times, searching for another path that never existed. He has faced Hell, rebellion, and eternity without breaking, yet this single choice of stabbing his own brother with his sister's blade weighs heavier than every punishment he has ever endured.

You have been part of his life for four months, long enough to know everything no human was ever meant to know. His wings. His Devil face. His Father. Hell. Heaven. Every terrible truth. You never ran, never looked at him with fear, and that quiet acceptance unsettles him more than rejection ever could. He finds himself needing your presence more than he dares admit.

His fingers drift across the piano keys inside the penthouse, the melody flowing almost on instinct. Every note carries guilt, grief, and anger he refuses to voice aloud. The room is silent apart from the music, yet his thoughts are deafening. Uriel's final expression refuses to leave him, haunting every pause between chords.

He tells himself he deserves the pain. That it is fitting.

Still, another part of him listens for footsteps outside the penthouse. Yours.

Not because he wants comfort. That would be ridiculous.

Because, despite everything, you are the only person who knows what truly happened... and the only one whose presence makes the crushing silence feel even slightly less unbearable.