In the beginning... The angel Lucifer was cast out of Heaven and condemned to rule Hell for all eternity. Until he decided to take a vacation...
A series of gifs and imagines for Lucifer (FOX)
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Lucifer was on a path of destruction. The destruction of himself.
A hatred for himself had surfaced, believing that he was evil because of the role his father gave him.
No one had heard from him in days; not Chloe, Linda or even Maze. You chose to give the Devil a visit, determined to aid him out of this depression. He could easily dismiss phone calls and messages, but he couldn't avoid you if you were right in front of him.
When the elevator doors opened you were met with an unusual scene. Empty glass bottles adorned the expensive-looking apartment, either whole or broken where they had been thrown carelessly. Food wrappers blanketed the small table in the kitchen along with the unwashed plates and cutlery. Clothes laid across the leather sofa, gathering wrinkles and inviting moths to eat them.
The place was chaos.
"Lucifer?" You shouted, hoping to gain the attention of the sorrow-filled Devil. No response.
You took a hesitant step into the penthouse, stepping over scrunched up suit jackets and dress shoes in piles from the elevator to the bedroom archway.
"Lucifer!" Your voice echoed off the marble walls. Once the reverb died down, the light trickle of droplets hitting a tiled floor found your ears. Your eyes drifted to the bathroom, spying the bright light creeping beneath the closed door.
Tiptoeing towards the door, the apparent sound of a running shower increased with every step. You placed your ear against the dark wood door, listening for any sign of activity.
"Lucifer?" You spoke softly, knocking on the door in case he couldn't hear your voice over the water. Still no response. "Luci? Are you in there?" You knocked again, waiting for a reply but nothing came.
Filling your lungs with air, you knew what you had to do. You had to go in there.
"I'm coming in, Luci." You exclaimed, praying he wasn't in a compromising position.
The soft squeak of the bathroom door opening filled the tiled room. Stepping through the threshold you saw Lucifer straight away.
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The Devil, dressed in one of his black Armani suits and white shirts, sat soaked through in the shower cubicle. A constant stream of water fell on him from the showerhead, rolling down his distraught face to the floor. You couldn't tell if the water dripping off his face was from the shower or his own tears. His usually careful styled hair clung to his forehead, small curls appearing from becoming wet. The marble wall behind him acted as a hard pillow for his slumped body and head.
Lucifer didn't register your presence. His eyes locked onto the wall opposite the shower and didn't seem to be moving any time soon.
You didn't say a word as you slowly made your way to the entrance of the walk-in shower. You contemplated turning the shower off and helping him into his bed but if this was his safe space, you had no right to disturb him.
Instead, you choose to join him.
After removing your jacket, you lowered yourself to the wet ground placing yourself next to Lucifer. You placed your arm between his and his suit-clad body, slipping your hand into his and locking your fingers. You laid your head on his shoulder, silently telling him that he wasn't alone in whatever he was going through.
And that's how the two of you stayed for most of the night; on the shower floor, soaking wet and not saying a word.
