The Girl In The Handcuffs

The Devil's Touch

Your lip was throbbing, it stung as you licked it, a familiar metallic taste hit your tongue, and you sighed. That wasn't what was important right now, the reopened wound on your side was a much more pressing matter. You were just happy it had been healing well before your little skirmish. It certainly wasn't bleeding as much compared to last time. Still the fact that it was bleeding at all was a cause for concern.

Did you go home though? Seek medical attention? Call someone?

No.

You went straight to Lucifer's penthouse, taking the back way he had shown you to avoid any party goers at Lux. Perhaps it was the fight you'd barely escaped from, or the bleeding wound on your side, but you felt compelled to go to his home. Whether he was there or not mattered very little to you.

He had the perfect remedy for your pain stalked to the ceiling, on glass shelves. You went straight for the bottle of Jack, taking a generous gulp before setting it on the piano, and searching through his cupboards. Praying to whoever would listen that he had a first aid kit, but you come up empty-handed.

You cursed under your breath, eyeing the bottle of whiskey for a moment. But shook your head, whiskey was good for pain, but you needed something stronger to sterilize your wound.

"Whiskey for pain, vodka for cleaning." You mumbled.

You hadn’t noticed the man walking down the steps from the bedroom, so focused on your pain you never even heard the shower running. Quite honestly you had assumed he'd be enjoying time down at Lux.

Lucifer froze a moment, smiling a little until he saw the blood on his previously pristine floors.

"Oh darling, what am I going to do with you..." He mumbled to himself.

His frown deepened when he saw that you were not drinking his very expensive bottle of Iordanov Vodka, but pouring it onto what he remembered to be your knife wound.

"Blood on Italian marble, I'm sure that's not damaging or anything..." You hissed in pain, gripping the bottle tightly as you set it on the bar. Before opening the cupboards under the bar, hoping to find a first aid kit, or at the very least a clean rag to press to your wound.

"Really a much easier clean than one would assume." Lucifer finally spook up.

You panicked, jumping in surprise, head slamming against the shelf above you.

"Damn it!"

Lucifer chuckled lightly at your unfortunate luck tonight before moving to help you up. He guided you to the couch, watching you settle back on it. He took in your appearance, busted lip, bruising cheek. Then of course there was the bleeding wound on your side.

"What have you been up to? Undoing all my hard work." He scolded you lightly.

You smiled as he lifted your shirt, clicking his tongue in disapproval at the sight of your torn stitches.

"Well good news you don't need stitches again, it's been healing quite nicely. We'll patch it right up, and you'll be right as rain." He hummed.

You raised an eyebrow watching Lucifer disappear into his bedroom before stepping back out carrying a small box with him.

"Right as rain? That's an old phrase."

"I've been around far longer then that phrase."

He chuckled, cleaning the blood from around your wound before pressing a thick gauze to your side. You flinched a bit but otherwise quietly watched him secure it into place with medical tape.