Who Needs A Hero?

The Papparazzi

Not edited.***

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"Run, baby. Run as fast as you can. I love you, okay? Don't forget it. I love you so much. Now run and don't stop until you're safe." His voice cracked at the last part.

The weak little girl nodded as her body shook with fear. She didn't know what was happening. She was too young to understand the danger she had been placed in. All she knew was that her daddy was scared and she had to leave him.

She could feel her little heart breaking as her mother took her hand and forced her to run. Forced her to leave him. She felt the tears streaming down her cheeks. The ache in her throat as she cries and screams for her daddy to go with her.

And then all at once it stopped. She didn't know what was going on. She didn't know where she was. She was slowly falling.

Falling and falling.

Waiting for him to catch her. Waiting for him to save her. Like he always did.

But he didn't.

He never came.

She fell until she crashed.

~~~~~

"Tell me again why you had to bother me so late in the night?" I asked, again annoyance clear in my voice.

"Oh, you know you love me."

"Yeah, right. What do you want, Luci?"

A scowl appeared on his face at the nickname. "Don't call me that."

"Why? I think it suits you." I chuckled, as I proofread the rest of my essay.

Lucifer groaned as he spread himself out on my bed. He'd been here for about an hour already and all he had done was lounge around. Whatever reason he was here, he hadn't said. It was was starting to annoy me a bit.

I shook my head. "What do you want, Luci? Why are you here?"

"I can't just visit my bestie?" He asked with a sheepish expression.

"Sure," I retorted. "If we were friends."

"Harsh, Chels. Harsh."

I couldn't help the giggle that escaped me. He had said that with such a wounded expression. It was almost adorable.

"Seriously, babe, what's up?" I asked, sitting against the headboard of my bed, pushing him over.

"Well, babe, I need a favor."

A sudden feeling of apprehension and dread slowly began to fill the pit of my stomach. I had an eerie feeling that whatever favor it was that he needed, it was going to be something very bad for me. Before I started to overwork myself, I decided to hear him out.

"What do you need?"

"Be my girlfriend." He stated, no hesitation in his voice whatsoever.

"W-what?" I stutter, in slight surprise. "No, why would you want me to date you?!"

"I'm being hounded by the paparazzi. They've caught me together with you a couple of times and my manager is afraid that, because of my record, they'll make a scandal out of it."