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chapter 14 \|/ one silver dollar

(A SHORT)

"ONE SILVER DOLLAR"
—Marilyn Monroe

Lucifer slumped against the comfort of his hotel bed. He felt exhausted, and he seriously was grateful for Nifty.

As soon as the trio got to the Inn she scooped Charlie up and excitedly told the Morningstars about a play date she set up. Lucifer immediately agreed when he found out it was with a few kids she was supposed to go to school with.

"Ughhhhhh." Lucifer groaned, digging his face into his pillow.

'Maybe a nap.' Lucifer stripped himself quickly, then grabbed some stray sweatpants on the floor. Lucifer closed his eyes and tucked himself in.

..

.

Lucifer was on a porch, dim lights hanging around him and another person. They stayed still and silent for what seemed like forever until the man wrapped their hands around the small of Lucifer's waist.

Lucifer giggled lightly and wrapped his arms around the man's neck, forcing himself on his toes. He buried his head into the broad chest and inhaled, closing his eyes while loosing himself in the scent.

"Gorgeous.." Lucifer heard the man whisper, and Lucifer could feel his throat hum a response.

"Why don't you ask me yet? You know i'm waiting for you to." Lucifer's eyes snapped open and he stared at the man in fear.

"Why are you denying yourself this pleasure?" Lucifer felt the hot breath against his ear get impossibly closer, and Lucifer heard a sound of a slice of a knife.

"Because.. Because..." Lucifer sounded like a broken record, and he ripped himself from the grasp of the man infront of him.

"What the fuck? What is this? Where are we? Who are you?" The silhouette of the man quickly formed into one of a familiar man.

"..Alastor?" Lucifer almost whimpered out, a hand slowly creeping up to his mouth.

"Yes... my dear?" Lucifer took a few steps backwards as his trembling gaze made its way down to one of Alastor's hands.

"Why do you have a knife..?"

"It's my job, my dearest."

.

Lucifer gasped as he woke up, a hand clutching his heart as he hopelessly tried to catch his breath.

What the fuck?

Lucifer quickly scrambled out of the warmth of his bed (already regretting it) and flickered on a lamp. He dug into one of his cabinet, retrieving a small box and a lighter. He opened his window and grabbed the wooden chair in their room. He frowned as he took a cigarette from the box, then tossed the box aside and lit it.

Lucifer took a long drag, his memories of the dream still lingering in his mind.

He needed that damn waiter out of his head.

Lucifer sighed, his gaze shifting around the room until it landed on a familiar guitar case.

Cigarette still loose on his lips, Lucifer retrieved the guitar from its case and sat on the chair. He expertly tested a few strings before he started to hum a tune he heard not too long ago.