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The second time Chloe considers moving out, her mom is visiting.
It’s become a permanent thing now, the two of them living together. Has been so for… two months? Three? Chloe’s not sure. The first few weeks, she’d constantly been looking through apartment listings, desperate to find an alternative. But none of them had been what she’d been looking for, either too expensive, too far away from the academy, or too shabby. (She can’t afford to be picky, but she’d drawn the line at having roaches for roommates.) Eventually, Lucifer had asked if she’d like to stay at the penthouse, officially. Permanently.
It’d been far from ideal, Chloe Decker and Lucifer Morningstar, living together . They’re literally like day and night. When she gets up in the morning, he’s just gone to bed (with a horny clubgoer or two, sometimes three), and later, when she’s putting on her pyjamas and removing her make-up, he’ll reapply his eyeliner and button up a clean shirt. She always thinks through every step, contemplates pros and cons, considers, reflects, plans. He does whatever he wants, whenever he wants. She values privacy and respects other people’s personal space. He didn’t have a lock for his bathroom until she gave him one—after he’d walked in on her in the shower, four times. She likes the calm and quiet. He’s bored by anything that doesn’t involve sex or drugs.
He also claims he’s the actual devil.
But, somehow, despite their many, many differences… it works.
It helps that she’s got her own room now. And a door—a birthday gift from Lucifer.
She dusts off the last surfaces, readjusts the simple bouquet of flowers on her nightstand, and fluffs her sofa cushions one last time. Standing in the doorway, she takes in her now clean and tidied room. It looks good. Her mom will definitely find something to criticise—the lack of glitz and glamour, for instance, or the beige colour on the walls—but Chloe thinks it looks good. Warm and cosy.
She climbs the stairs to the living room and brings the cleaning supplies with her. It’s already 03.56, and she doesn’t have time to run down to the storage room, so she settles for shoving the supplies into the corner, behind the spiral staircase. She’ll put them away properly when her mom has left.
Taking a deep breath, she turns to get a glass of water from the bar before the Queen of the Quarks arrives, or maybe a shot of whatever strong liquor her roommate—
Her roommate is naked.
‘Lucifer!’
She’s in front of him in five strides, her hand held out strategically, hiding most of his body from her view. It’s nothing she hasn’t seen before, unfortunately, but she doesn’t need nor want her memory refreshed.
‘What are you doing ?’ she hisses through clenched teeth, her eyes boring into the side of his face as he pours himself two fingers of whiskey and takes a swig. ‘My mom could be here any minute!’ She snatches the tumbler from his hand.
‘Hey!’ Good, she’s got his attention. ‘No need to be rude. If you want some, you need only ask, Detective.’ He smirks at her before glancing down his unclothed body.
She is so done with him.
‘Clothes,’ she demands. ‘Now.’
He gently takes his drink back from her hand, his fingers brushing against hers, and brings it to his lips to sip it like he’s got all the time in the world. ‘Why all the haste? I thought you said she was coming at four.’
Chloe looks at him, long and hard, her jaw clenching. ‘She is , and it’s almost four.’
He looks out the windows, brows drawn together. Then realisation visibly hits him. ‘Oh, I thought you meant four in the morning.’
‘Four in the-? How often do you have family coming over at four in the morning?!’
His face hardens before a flicker of hurt flashes across his eyes. He looks down at the whiskey in his hand.
‘Never.’
He downs the rest of his drink and puts the empty glass down on the bar with a loud clank. ‘Unless you count my pious, feathered prick of a brother who keeps popping down and telling me to go to Hell. Perhaps not at four in the morning exactly, but always at the worst possible time. And my other relatives, well, they’ve-… We’re better off without each other.’
His eyes are sharp and resentful when they meet hers.
‘O..kay… We’re definitely talking about that one later. But right now, please put some frigging clothes on!’
Before any of them can move, the elevator dings and the doors are rasping open behind her.
‘Chloe! Sweetie, I am so happy to- Hello …’ A bemused smile forms on her mom’s face as she steps fully into the penthouse and takes in the scene. ‘Am I interrupting something?’
‘Mom! No! No, you are absolutely not! My roommate was just-’
He pushes past her, eagerly making his way over to her mother, completely unminding about his state of undress.
‘Penelope Decker! As I live and breathe? The vampire queen?’
Her mom, humble as ever, strikes a pose and gives him an overly complacent smile. ‘The one and only.’
Already tired, Chloe takes a step towards them. ‘Mom, Lucifer. Lucifer, Mom.’
Her mother offers Lucifer her hand, and he, absolutely star-struck, takes it. Naked as the day he was born, he bows before her and places a kiss on her hand. ‘A pleasure meeting you, Your Majesty. I’m a big fan.’
Her mom’s eyes twinkle with delight. ‘Honey, you didn’t tell me your roommate was this charming !’
Chloe sighs and buries her face in her hand, shaking her head.
‘Well, it’s certainly a pleasure meeting you too,’ her mom purrs at Lucifer and, sadly, Chloe doesn’t miss how her eyes flick down. ‘In all your glory.’
Lucifer grins at her mom and lifts his chin in a proud pose, a low, shameless chuckle rumbling from his chest.
‘ Okay !’ Chloe claps her hands and comes to stand between them. ‘Now that you two have met, why don’t I give you a tour, Mom? I’m sure Lucifer has somewhere to be .’
She stares at him, begging him to take the hint.
‘Well, I do have an appointment with my therapist in about an hour. But between that and playing a set at LUX, the Devil’s not doing anything! In fact,’—he turns to her mother—‘why don’t you stay for dinner, Mrs. Decker?’
‘Oh, no, Mom, that’s okay, you don’t have to-’
‘I’d love that! I haven’t had dinner with my daughter in ages ,’ she smiles enthusiastically at Chloe. Chloe manages a grimace in return. ‘Thank you, Lucifer. And please,’—her voice drops into something seductive—‘call me Penelope.’
‘Well, you’re most welcome. Penelope .’ His brown eyes, shiny with an emotion Chloe doesn’t want to analyse, glide over her mother.
Gross.
Chloe clears her throat.
‘Right, yes, I should probably get dressed. The doctor’s having a hard enough time resisting me with clothes on.’ He picks up his phone from the bar and finally turns to go to his bedroom. ‘See you ladies later!’
Before he disappears behind the stained glass, Chloe catches a glimpse of his scars. Maybe she’s just gotten used to them—for someone whose closet is bigger than her room, he is naked awfully often—but the sight doesn’t make her shiver with horror anymore. It’s his words that still linger, from when she’d first seen him shirtless, ‘ I suppose it is my father’s fault .’ He’d clarified that he’d done it to himself, or that Maze had, when he’d asked her to, but that hadn’t loosened the tight knot in Chloe’s chest. He always wraps it up in elaborate Biblical metaphors and dramatic retorts, his past and his dad, always talks about it but never really talks about it. Sometimes, in fleeting moments of shared vulnerability, he’ll say something or have this look on his face, and she just gets this sickening feeling that the scars marring his back may be nothing compared to the ones cut into his soul. She’s glad he has a therapist.
‘So, how long has this thing been going on?’
Chloe turns her head and frowns at her mother. ‘What thing?’
‘Between you and Lucifer! Aren’t you sleeping together?’
‘What?! No! ’
Her mom raises her brows in genuine surprise, much like she would when she didn’t get why Chloe had turned down a certain role. ‘Why not ? He’s delicious!’ Leaning a bit towards Chloe, she adds in a low voice, ‘and well-endowed, too.’
‘Oh my God, Mom, no! Nuh-uh.’ Chloe shakes her head rapidly and turns her back to her mom as she goes to rinse Lucifer’s tumbler under the faucet at the bar. ‘There is nothing between me and Lucifer.’
‘But you like him, don’t you?’
Chloe stops scrubbing the glass with her fingers and looks up into the wall of scotch. She takes a deep breath. Both yes and no feel like a lie.
‘He’s tolerable,’ she says, and resumes washing the glass.
‘ Tolerable ? Sweetie, he’s got the face of a Roman God and the body of a-’
‘Okay, Mom, enough about my roommate.’ Chloe puts down the rinsed tumbler and walks over to grab her mother’s arm. ‘Come on, I’ll show you my room.’
‘I’m just saying!’ she defends as Chloe drags her towards the stairs. Her mom gasps when they pass the piano, her eyes turning big and round, like a child’s . ‘And he plays ? Has he ever played for you?’
He does, and he has. Often. It’s one of his many ways of teasing her. He’ll either change the lyrics into something vulgar and grin when she glares at him, or pour his heart out in a stupid 90s love song just to see her blush.
But she doesn’t tell her mom that.
‘You know, there’s an amazing view down here,’ she says instead, escorting her downstairs.
She’s already dreading dinner.
‘I gotta say, honey,’—her mom grabs her second glass of wine and leans back in the lounge chair, the picture of a true film star with her big sunglasses and her wavy hair flowing in the evening breeze—‘when you said you wanted to do things on your own, I wasn’t expecting you’d end up eating Michelin-starred take-away and living in a penthouse in West Hollywood for free.’ She sips her wine like her obnoxious version of Aphrodite in Rise of the Gods , and Chloe’s jaw clenches.
‘I don’t live here for free, Mom.’ She doesn’t. Despite Lucifer insisting it’s absolutely unnecessary, she pays her share of the rent. (A very, very small share, but her mom doesn’t need to know that.)
‘Oh, well, I just assumed…’ She makes a vague gesture between Chloe and Lucifer, now dressed, in a tailored dark blue three-piece suit.
He pauses his fork mid-air and looks up with amused eyes. ‘That I was some sort of… sugar daddy ?’
‘No, not exactly,’ her mother smiles at him. She places her wine glass on the table and props up her elbows to rest her chin on her folded hands. ‘Just that you’re a generous, rich gentleman.’
Lucifer puts his cutlery down and wipes his hands on the cloth napkin. ‘Well, I am quite generous, yes. And rich, obviously.’ With a smirk, he gestures to their surroundings. ‘But your daughter doesn’t need nor want my money, and I refuse to ignore her desires. So, yes, she pays for living here.’ He picks up the expensive bottle of Cabernet Sauvignon and nods towards Chloe’s empty glass. ‘More wine, darling?
‘Oh, uh, yes, please.’ She holds out her glass, and he pours the drink with practised elegance, his long fingers wrapped around the slender bottle in a firm, but casual grip. The wine spills into the glass gracefully, dark and full in the golden glow of sunset. Their eyes meet briefly, and they smile at each other.
‘And you’re sure there’s nothing going on between you two?’
‘Mom,’ Chloe hisses, glaring at her.
‘Well, nothing sexual, if that’s what you mean.’ Lucifer refills his own glass and takes a sip. ‘Not that I haven’t offered.’ He side-eyes Chloe like he still can’t believe someone has said no to having sex with him. ‘But we do have this delicious push and pull between us, don’t you agree, Detective?’
‘ Detective ?’ Her mom looks between the two of them, her brows arched up above her sunglasses. She turns to Chloe. ‘Getting a bit ahead of ourselves, are we?’ Her tone is edged with mild disapproval, no real heat, but it still drops like a cold stone to the pit of Chloe’s stomach.
‘It’s just a nickname, Mom,’ she lies, tracing the rim of her wine glass with her finger.
Frowning, Lucifer swallows a bite of food and looks to Chloe’s mother. ‘Getting ahead? Not at all. There’s nothing wrong with a bit of ambition. I mean, she’ll have to muscle up a bit first, and get off that terrible Hollywood diet that seems to only consist of plants and juice, but with her wit and notable instincts, she’ll certainly make an honourable addition to the force.’
Chloe looks up at him, stunned. Not so much at his honesty, more at the genuine compliment. A genuine, un-sarcastic, non-sexual compliment. From Lucifer. And yet his tone isn’t sweetened with flattery. It’s… neutral. Like he’s stating a simple fact.
‘I just don’t think she realises how much she’s throwing away. You’re so talented , honey. And your career has only just begun! Everyone wants to work with Chloe Decker after Uncut Diamond , and of course they do. Have you seen it, Lucifer? She’s fantastic!’
Lucifer shifts a bit in his seat, his knee bumping against Chloe’s under the table.
‘I have, yes. I thought it was rather spectacular, actually. Perhaps one of my favourites—’
Chloe bites her cheek to keep herself from smiling. The weekend after she’d started crashing at his place, he’d binge-watched her entire filmography. She’s never been a big fan of seeing herself on screen, and she swears he’d only done it to annoy her (especially when he’d put on Hot Tub High School for the third time). But she can’t deny it’d been just a little fun catching him in the middle of watching a certain scene in her latest (and last) project, seeing his whiskey glass pause on his lips and his eyes go big and dark as she appeared on screen in a long, black, backless strap dress.
Lucifer holds up a defensive hand, ‘—and not just because there were made some excellent choices on the costume designers’ part. But because… well, truth be told, I found her performance nothing short of extraordinary.’
He glances over at Chloe with a soft, almost apologetic smile, and she can’t help but smile back at him. And if her cheeks are a little red, it’s probably just the second glass of wine kicking in.
‘So you agree?’ her mom asks Lucifer with a smirk that makes Chloe’s teeth clench. ‘It would be a shame to see her talent go down the drain?’
‘I agree that she’s a marvellous actress, possibly the best of her generation, yes. But I also believe that her passion is the reason behind that—that passion is the secret behind any great work of art. And if there’s no passion, if acting is no longer what she desires , if what she really desires is to- to protect and to serve the city of Los Angeles,’—he gives her mother an askew smile—‘well, then what’s the point? What’s the point of doing something just because everybody else wants you to?’
Chloe takes her eyes off Lucifer and looks to her mother, expectantly.
‘But it’s so dangerous! And the acting,’—she perches her sunglasses on top of her head and looks at Chloe—‘it may be hard sometimes, sweetie, and I know you don’t enjoy the spotlight as much as I do, but it can also be so much fun, and fulfilling, and-’
Her mother swallows, her eyes abruptly glistening as she holds Chloe’s gaze. Her lips are drawn into a thin line, like the words are lodged inside her.
‘And it won’t get me killed,’ Chloe says for her.
Her mom inhales deeply, nodding. Chloe reaches for her hand and brushes her thumb across her knuckles.
‘I know it’s scary, Mom. I would lie if I said I wasn’t a bit scared too. But,’ Chloe sighs, ‘I want to do this. I- I want to do what he did. It would mean so much to me.’ She gives her mother a small smile.
‘Oh, sweetheart,’ her mom sniffles, squeezing Chloe’s hand, ‘it would mean so much to him too. I just…’ She gives her a pleading look. ‘Please be careful, okay?’
Chloe nods, warmth prickling behind her eyes. ‘Promise.’
A bit of relief washes over her mom’s face. She lets go of Chloe’s hand to dab her eyes with a napkin and chuckles a bit to herself. Then she puts her sunglasses back on and looks to Lucifer with the most radiant smile in Hollywood.
‘So, tell me, Lucifer. What’s the Devil’s night club like?’
Chloe is smiling as the doors slide shut, her mom’s sweet perfume lingering around her from their tight hug.
Lucifer’s still out on the balcony. He almost fades into the night, with his black hair and dark suit. The silky back of his waistcoat shimmers in the moonlight, his jacket draped over the railing he’s leaning against. A puff of smoke rises to the night sky before it disappears into the air. Soon, he’ll go down to pumping music, eager patrons, and colourful designer drugs, but not yet. Now, he just enjoys the calm before the storm, a seldom moment of peace and quiet in his roaring life.
Chloe joins him.
‘Oh, hello,’ he smiles around his cigarette when she appears at his side. He pulls out his slim silver case and opens it in offering. Chloe shakes her head with a slight smile.
‘Right, I forgot how boring you are.’
She chuckles, despite herself, and watches him take a drag. He tilts his head back a bit as he blows out the smoke.
‘Thank you,’ she says.
He frowns and looks over at her. ‘What for?’
‘For, you know, for defending me. For defending my decision. It was really nice to have someone on my side for once.’
His expression softens. ‘Oh. Well. Anytime.’ He takes his eyes off her and looks out at the city lights, twinkling like low-hung stars in the night. ‘After all, I’m no stranger to what it’s like when everyone is against you.’ His gaze flicks to the sky above them for a second before he sighs and brings the cigarette to his lips again.
‘Not everyone’s against you, Lucifer,’ she tells him.
He scoffs. ‘I beg to dif-’ The word halts on his lips when he sees the look in her eyes. He lets out an incredulous sound, half a chuckle, half a snort. ‘Sure you want to be on the Devil’s side, darling?’ His teeth flash white in the dark as he grins at her, all Big, Bad Wolf, but she’s not scared of him.
‘As long as he’s on mine, yes.’
His smile falls, his lips staying slightly parted. He swallows, then slowly nods, almost solemnly.
‘…and as long as he swears to keep his clothes on around me.’ She raises one stern eyebrow at him, her mouth curling up at the corner.
Almost indignantly, he mumbles, ‘First time a woman has ever asked that of me.’
It shouldn’t, but it gives her an odd sense of satisfaction. He may have an endless string of lovers, always willing to strip him down and worship his body, but she’s the only one who just wants him to put on some pants. She’s the only one who gets to roll her eyes when he deliberately buys the wrong groceries because her list was ‘boring’, and the only one he scolds for getting Flamin’ Hot Cheetos instead of cool ranch puffs. He may charm the crowd with enticing, glamourous acts every other night, but she’s the only one he annoys with lewd lyrics and cheesy love ballads. The only one who helps him clean up when the party’s over, and the only one who has to put up with finding his sex toys between the sofa cushions. In a world where everyone who desires it gets to dance with the Devil, she’s the only one who has to live with him.
And that shouldn’t make her smile, but it does.