Luciano watched from the shadows beyond the glass, an amused smirk playing on his lips as two mortals tore into each other with flailing hands. A heated argument was unfolding before him. One of them even glanced out the window at him, but immediately turned back to hurl another insult at his partner.
Of course, they couldn't see him. In his demonic form, Luciano was merely a silent spectator nestled just out of reach, gleefully trespassing on a moment meant to be private.
Fair Skin was losing patience. He gestured wildly, spouting complaints about Blue Hair's lack of financial contribution. She shot back without missing a beat. If she handled the cleaning, wasn't that technically just another form of currency? After all, he never lifted a finger around the house.
Not long ago, Blue Hair had greeted her lover with a kiss so fierce it threatened to unravel their evening into something breathless and erotic. The air between them had practically hummed with the promise of sex.
Then Luciano stepped through the threshold.
His talent wasn't necessarily manipulation. He didn't conjure thoughts, didn't plant lies like some warlock. The suspicion was already there in the mortal's subconscious. Luciano simply gave it water.
With one glance, the seed sprouted.
It was a fleeting thought: She doesn't pay for anything. A flicker of resentment, followed by a landslide of guilt that he quickly buried beneath his anxiety. Confrontation was uncomfortable. Mortals loved their illusions more than they loved resolution.
Luciano relished the spectacle.
Mortals.
They were beautifully fragile creatures, simmering with emotion and terrified of their own truths.
So delightfully easy to rattle.
The gods shaped them as entertainment—Luciano was just lucky enough to have a front row seat.
All it took was a whisper of doubt, and the cracks began to show.
Then all Luciano had to do was wait for the fun to unfold. The humans had a phrase for it: "bring out the popcorn."
Pity that demons couldn't enjoy such indulgences as popcorn. After Lucifer became a fallen angel, all denizens of the Underworld lost the right to have niceties. Things like being able to consume food. Of actually tasting flavours. No more pleasure in the simple things.
Not that it bothered Luciano. You can't really miss what you never had.
Though Lucifer still whined to him about it as if it were a lost luxury.
Luciano leaned against the window frame, nearly purring.
"But it's not my fault," Blue Hair's voice wavered just enough to tug at the heart but not enough to convince.
Fair Skin frowned, his jaw clenched as her eyes shimmered with weaponised tears.
"You act like I haven't been searching for work. Do you really think I enjoy living off of you?" She snapped, breath hitching. "And before you say yes, I don't, Noel."
Luciano smirked.
Oh, sweet delusion.
She absolutely did. Work was for people who didn't have someone else's bank account on tap. She'd spun her own narrative to massage her dignity. The newest model of one of those devices they spoke into and a fridge stocked with snacks, all courtesy of Noel. And still, she clung to the fantasy that her presence was payment enough.
And Noel? He didn't enjoy being her patron, no. But he had convinced himself that he did. That it was noble. That it made him good.
"Drew, come on," Noel groaned irritably, a fed-up look painting his expression. "I bet there's a vacancy at Jerry's. Did you even ask?"
Her gaze swerved left when she murmured unconvincingly, "That was the first place I checked."
Luciano scoffed mentally.
Liar, liar. Pants on fire.
"If you're gonna lie, at least make it sound halfway convincing," Noel snapped.
"I'm not lying."
"Yes, you are."
"Fine. Maybe I don't want to work at Jerry's, okay? That place is grim as fuck. Sexual harassment central. You want me catching creeps between refills?" Her lip curled down. "Besides, Jerry hates me."
"No, he doesn't."
"Yes, he does."
"He offered you the job!"
"To impress you, idiot!" she barked, delivering a palm smack to his forehead. "How are you so blind? He flirts with you every single time we go there."
Luciano stifled a laugh.
Oh, how delicious. A love triangle.
Noel sputtered, "That's bullshit!"
Was it, though?
Luciano peered into his thoughts. Jerry's smirks. Compliments. Prolonged eye contact. Fair Skin noticed. He was aware of this Jerry character's flirting? He just never admitted he didn't mind it. Did he secretly love the attention?
"So I must be going crazy then?" Drew muttered.
"With the way you're acting, maybe," Noel shot back.
Luciano grinned.
"Fuck you, Noel."
"Fuck me?" Noel's voice flattened.
"Yeah. Fuck you."
Noel turned, grabbing his jacket. "Okay, Drew."
"Where are you going?" Drew's voice pitched into panic.
Luciano sat straighter.
Yeah, where was he going?
No, no, no—this was premature.
They were just getting to the juicy part.
"You can't just leave," she cried.
Yes! Grab the reins, keep the show running!
"Watch me." His keys jingled.
"Where are you even going?"
"I don't care. As long as it's not here."
"You can't do this—"
"No, Drew. What I can't do is this." His hand was on the doorknob, one twist away from exit.
Luciano hummed in frustration.
"Please don't leave me." Her voice dropped into a fragile whisper, barely audible to humans, but Luciano caught every syllable.
He paused.
Damn it, she's pulling the waterworks.
Blue Hair moved, wrapped her arms around his waist, wet black trails silently smudging against the fabric.
"I'll try, I promise," she murmured. "Please don't be mad."
Luciano watched Noel's resolve fracture. The poor guy didn't stand a chance. Tears and doe eyes. Mortals were so predictable.
"I'm sorry, baby," Noel sighed, arms closing around her. "Please don't cry."
And just like that, Luciano's amusement dulled. The drama was over.
"I love you," Drew whispered.
Ugh.
His wings beat against the air with increasing intensity, and he ascended into the velvety night sky. His fingertips glided over the sleek surface of the glass, while the rushing wind stung his face as if attempting to force him back to the earth. However, he persevered until he reached the pinnacle of the building, where he unfurled his wings to their fullest extent.
In that exhilarating instant, he experienced a profound sense of weightlessness, as if all his pent-up anger and lust dissipated, leaving him surrounded by a tranquil aura.
And he began to fall.
His body was hugged by his wings when he landed back on the ground and he instantly allowed them to warm his body up. They twitched and flapped around as if they had a mind of their own.
As he cautiously approached the rear of the familiar apartment, his steps slowed and he hesitated for a brief moment. Glancing up at the window he intended to peer through, he scanned his surroundings for any eyes. Sensing no presence nearby, he gracefully ascended into the sky and perched on a sturdy tree branch, from where he discreetly peered through the window.
His brows furrowed in confusion as he looked at the impeccably made bed. It felt strange not to see him lying there as he usually was.
Something was definitely amiss; he could feel it.
When he saw the silhouette of someone busting the door off its hinges, he quickly hid behind the tree bark.
Until he realised how idiotic he was being and looked through the window again. Even if he stood out in the open like this, he wouldn't be able to be seen in his demonic form unless summoned.
The intruder instantly began to ransack the place.
What had that mortal done now?
Thinking quickly, he took flight with his powerful wings. Beating the air, he swooped down towards the window, breaking through the glass.
The lean kid with the handgun whipped his head around, eyes wide with alarm. Then he fumbled with his weapon at the sudden intrusion. However, before he could aim, Luciano dove straight at him with his long talons extended.
The kid yelled in surprise and tried to duck away from him, but he was too late. The gun clattered across the floor after he pinned the kid under him.
"Who are you?" Luciano interrogated the kid, his voice low and menacing.
"What the fuck, man?" he mused in panic, glancing at his expression with a look of horror. "Get off of me!"
"I said, who are you?"
"Sean," he stuttered fearfully, and he could tell that he was trying to avoid his piercing gaze. "My name is Sean, okay?"
"Where is the owner of this place?"
The kid flinched, his eyes darting around nervously. "I don't know, man," he stammered, his voice quivering with fear.
Without warning, his sharp claws slowly dug into the skin on his shoulders, eliciting a howl of pain from him. The kid writhed in agony underneath the weight of his body, desperately trying to break free from his grasp.
"You're obviously here for a reason," he growled, his grip tightening on him. "You best tell me something useful if you know what's good for you, mortal."
He whimpered, tears streaming down his face. "Please, I don't know anything. I swear."
Luciano studied his face for a moment, searching for any sign of deception. The kid's terror-stricken expression said he was probably telling the truth. With a frustrated sigh, Luciano extracted his talons from him, and the kid crumpled to the floor in relief, gasping for breath.
"Then of what use are you to me?" he muttered more to himself, preparing to kill him right on the spot.
His eyes widened and desperately he yelled, "Wait, hold on. I'm only here to dispose of the evidence, man. I had nothing to do with the disappearance of your friend. Please don't kill me."
His face was pale, beads of sweat glistening on his brow.
"Evidence?" Luciano mused with his eyebrow arching up in intrigue, lowering his hand slightly. "What evidence?"
"Your friend's phone, his wallet, anything that could link him to the people who sent me here." He swallowed hard, avoiding his piercing gaze.
Luciano felt a chill run down his spine at the prospect of the mortal whom he kept an eye on for all these years being dead.
An intense rage suddenly boiled inside him, but he forced himself to remain calm. He needed answers, not blind vengeance. "Who do you work for?"
The kid hesitated but when he narrowed his gaze on him, he let out a shaky breath. "Alright, alright. But you have to promise you won't kill me. I'm just the guy on the ground floor, okay? I don't know the bigger picture."
He considered his request for a moment, then nodded. "What do you know?"
"All I know is I'm only ever called to do something like this when a person has been permanently taken care of."
He squinted at him in confusion. "What's that supposed to mean?"
An ominous darkness coloured his gaze, and reading between the lines, Luciano realised what the kid was saying.
After staring into his eyes hypnotically and manipulating their encounter in his memory, Luciano turned away and disappeared into the shadows. His wings carried him up into the sky and after being high up enough to overlook the world stretched out in a patchwork of winding roads, rivers and clusters of buildings, he focused all his energy on finding the mortal's familiar signature.
The currents of the wind guided him higher, dancing between the puffy clouds that dotted the vast, starry expanse. But he paid it little mind. His sights were set on finding the one he sought. He soared effortlessly, his sleek feathers gliding through the air.
After what felt like an eternity, a faint trace of his essence drifted up to him. Weak, but once he honed in on the signal with a single-minded focus, it was like a beacon in the endless sky, pulling him forward. He angled his wings and dove. The closer he got, the stronger the connection became. He could feel his presence, read his unhidden thoughts, his very being.
The mortal was fading fast.
Finally, Luciano spotted him down below, a small figure along a solitary alleyway.
When the mortal stumbled off his feet and took a tumble onto the ground, without hesitation, Luciano folded his wings and plummeted downward, the wind rushing past. He took a step closer to him, closing the distance between them.
Just as Luciano was about to reach him, his wings unfurled, reminding him of his demonic form. Immediately, he came to a stop.
He couldn't let the mortal see him like this. Lucifer would surely have his head on a stick if he revealed his true nature to this human. The Prince of Darkness was not one to be trifled with, and he valued his continued existence far too much to risk his wrath.
So he quickly shifted, the familiar feline form he normally took on during the day settling over him like a comfortable cloak. He hated how small he became in this stupid form, but if he wanted to have his cake and eat it too, some things had to be sacrificed.
His tail twitched with indecision, the only outward sign of his irritation.
It seemed as though the mortal was having trouble keeping his eyes open, what with them weakly fluttering shut.
Luciano's gaze flicked down, catching the red liquid from his abdomen through his fingers.
To catch his attention, he let out a humiliating mewl.
Luckily, the mortal's eyes opened and his bemused greys settled on him.
Urgently, Luciano pressed forward, his paws making no sound against the cold, stone floor. The rancid stench in this area was causing his nose to wrinkle in disgust. Why had he chosen an alleyway of all places to stumble into?
He could practically feel the warmth radiating from his body. It was disappearing fast, probably because of his bleeding gash.
When the mortal reached his hand out to him, he tensed cautiously. But he simply ran his hand through his fur.
Luciano still tried to wrestle away from the feeling creeping up on him from his touch.
He watched as his unruly curls stuck to the beads of sweat on his forehead, matted against his pale skin. The light in his grey eyes was beginning to dim like a candle slowly being extinguished by a relentless wind. Even his laboured breaths grew shallower with each passing moment. Then the strength left his body and his hand grew limp on his small body.
He glanced up at the mortal, shaking his head in disapproval.
What had he done to get himself in this state?
What a fool.
Morphing back to his usual form, he tilted his head to the side to get rid of the knot entangled in his neck with a groan. His wings unfurled before rolling back, twitching mindlessly. Then he cautiously reached out to lift the bottom of his tattered shirt. The vibrant crimson of his life essence seeped through the fabric still.
A furrow twitched onto the corner of his eyebrow.
Who had done this to him?
His ethereal fingers brushed against his wound, and the mortal flinched in pain. For the briefest moment, his eyes snapped open and met his. In that instant, he saw the full spectrum of human emotion.
Fear.
Then pain.
Now acceptance.
Luciano's lips curled down in annoyance, despising how easily this mortal was willing to fall into the grasp of Death.
Every time he was around him, he couldn't help but be confused. Never had he met a mortal who was so eager to die, even going out of his way to put himself in situations where the likelihood of death was higher than usual.
But for some reason, he could never let this mortal take his final, shuddering breath. Or rather, he would not, not if he had anything to do with it.
With determination, Luciano grabbed a hold of his neck.
Then he pressed his lips against his parted lips.
The mortal's skin was cold like a dewdrop on a soft petal of a rose. Luciano focused all his energy on healing his wound, his mouth moving sensually. His own strength began to ebb away, his vitality seeping into the mortal. It was a familiar dance with him, saving him from the hands of death.
Breathing life back into him.