When they arrived, Luke opened the door to his small apartment. He flicked on the light switch as he stepped in after his God. Lucifer hummed and turned to face Luke.
Luke became paralyzed under Lucifer's gaze and exhaled shakily.
Lucifer smiled at him softly. "There's no need to be afraid, dearest."
Luke felt indignation at the notion of being afraid of his God. "I'm not afraid," Luke said quickly—his Savior had to know. Lucifer smiled at the statement.
"I just- I can't believe that any of this is... happening. It feels like a nightmare suddenly turned into a dream and it's...it's shocking, to say the least." Luke chuckled nervously.
Lucifer nodded in understanding. "Yes, of course. I'm sorry. I do hope we can endeavor to get past the uneasiness though, since I will not be leaving your side ever again."
Luke startled at the earnesty in those words. He wanted to ask why he was so special, but knew it wasn't his place to.
He would do anything for his God, without question, so Luke nodded. "Whatever you want, Lucifer."
Lucifer laughed and Luke's stomach did a flip, "Let us start with less complete obedience and more autonomy, yes? Are those not my teachings?"
Luke nodded and watched as Lucifer walked around his room with suspicious familiarity, smiling faintly at the bookshelf full of mythological books. "I do hope you don't find me to be disappointing and not live up to these," Lucifer picked up Paradise Lost from his desk's tabletop and placed it in its proper place on the shelf.
Luke would've taken it as a joke, but Lucifer's tone had been unreadable.
Lucifer turned around and smiled at him, "Don't you usually take a shower after a walk?"
Luke gasped and nodded, "Yeah. Yes, I do. Uh, I'll go do that now."
Luke heard Lucifer chuckle as he escaped into the shower.
Luke peeled his clothes off, they didn't have blood anymore but he still felt oddly dirty. He stepped into the shower and turned on the warm water. He sighed as the water cascaded over his body.
This had to be a dream. A damn good one. He didn't want to wake up from it. Someone like Luke being special enough for his God to call him His soulmate?
Luke laughed to himself and poured shampoo onto his palm, quickly massaging it into his hair and scalp.
He didn't know how his mind had come up with the man outside, but he wasn't complaining. He was gorgeous, clearly well-built (he'd seen the veins on those arms) but still beautiful.
The warm spray of water washed the shampoo out of his hair and he started applying his conditioner.
Luke didn't dare let himself think this was real, because that would mean he had killed a man and, more importantly, he was somehow important to the Devil. He wondered what He was doing right now. Maybe He was reading through a book—He'd shown some interest—although he still wasn't sure if what He'd said about Paradise Lost was meant to be a joke.
Of course Luke didn't believe that everything in those books was true. It was just a loose concept. What he really worshiped was the courageous strength that almost every one of those books seemed to bestow upon his God.
Luke was open-minded, always had been. He knew no one was perfect. Not his God, or any other god or person for that matter.
Luke washed out the conditioner and used his loofah to apply his body wash.
