A light breeze caused your hair to dance in the air, reminding Lucifer of all the times he would run his hands through it, enjoying the smooth strands between his fingertips. Your lips were stained red, Lucifer always said the shade filled you with a little more confidence, bringing out your inner minx. His favourite light blue summer dress draped your body, his favourite because it was what you were wearing the first time you met. The cork wedges on your feet made you a little bit taller, which meant when Lucifer hugged you from behind he could rest his chin on the top of your head.
All these thoughts swirled through his head as he stared at your from the other side of the abandoned warehouse.
Your hair was now matted together with dried blood, sticking to your smooth grey cheek. Your lips were stained red from the blood that escaped your mouth as your attacker took your life. The light blue summer dress was soaked from your blood gushing out of the stab wound on your stomach. Your foot had gone through the thin strap of one of the cork wedges as you tried to escape your attacker.
This was now the last image Lucifer had of you, not one of you smiling in his bed this morning, but this graphic image of your lifeless body.
The Devil barely registered the Detective trying to comfort him and usher him out of the crime scene.
But he was stuck.
Stuck without you.