A hot breath fanned her skin, the scent of old-spice cologne wafting through her nostrils.
The addictive scent made her mouth water, and her throat gasped and clenched for water. Her eyes grew wide, ice-blue irises staring straight ahead. A groan s...
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(River's POV)
It had been a few days in Lucifer's mansion.
The staff welcomed her with open arms. They treated her like a goddess, cleaning every speck whenever she took a step. River didn't raise a finger. Everything was prepared for her, everything was cleaned for her, and everything was made for her.
Lucifer was a different case.
He took every chance he had to stay at home. Madeline shared that he rarely used his office but now uses it for work at every opportunity.
She felt bubbly around him. Her stomach fluttered whenever he touched her; the room became more radiant whenever he was there. He was waiting for her like an excited puppy when she arrived home from work. Lucifer was always genuinely interested in her day. He wanted to know more about Ichphology, so he purchased books and read articles about it. When River asked why he did this, he told her that he wanted to understand the things she said about her work day.
River learned about his relationship with Cronus. They grew up together, practically brothers, and shared their failures and successes. It was pretty sweet.
She also learned that he had a younger brother named Sors and he had two mothers.
This was nothing like she's ever experienced. Her mother did not love like one, her father was out of the picture, and Athena went missing years ago. This was the first time she was excited to get home. To get back to someone.
The plump woman lay on her large bed. She didn't own it, but it was beginning to feel like hers.
For her exceptional work lately, Dr. Steele gave her a day off. River loved work, but she wanted to be home for some reason. She was beginning to think she wanted to stay home for Lucifer.
She raised herself to her feet slowly. The sun beaming through the large windows of her room warmed her pale skin, sharp shadows paling the wooden floorboards. Lately, River has appreciating her choice to move to America. If she stayed in France, she'd stay alone. She'd stay dreary. Her home would be dark and dry; dust would build up from how little she'd leave. River now sat in a room with the light streaming in, thinking of a man who gave her butterflies.
