my_own_advocate | Deck of the Cape Rouge, Sunday Afternoon

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Deck of the Cape Rouge, Sunday Afternoon

This certainly had been an emotionally eventful week, hadn't it? For the first time since Duke... exploded... Lucifer found himself in a decent mood, sleeping in to just about noon before cooking himself up a ridiculous breakfast.

Then there was coffee, and a still-somewhat-asleep Devil wandering onto the deck with a large mug that read 'Nail Satan' and a blanket slung over his shoulder. He sat down, facing the boardwalk, and stretched his legs out.

Sigh. A content one, for once. Not entirely without underlying strain, still, but close enough.

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Well, Octavia didn't pull away from it, so that was probably a good sign.

She inhaled. Even with that, her voice sounded as strained as it was quiet: "You want to have date night?"

Why the fuck would he not want to, Tavi?

... Yes, that was not the response Lucifer had anticipated. Not in any universe.

"Of course I do," he said, appalled at the very idea of not wanting to. "Always."

"Oh," Octavia said, very small, like there was something to be surprised about in his reaction, when there wasn't. Give her five to ten minutes to process, and she was going to see what an embarrassingly needless question and a worry that had been.

"I just --" she tried. "You and him --"

Maybe it was already starting to seep in.

"Are having our own date nights now, because we should have had them all along," Lucifer said. He brushed his thumb along her cheekbone. "You and I don't have the same cracks he and I do because we work hard to maintain what we have. I'm merely rectifying the mistake of not extending that to Duke, as well."

His expression softened.

"But I will always want our nights as well, Σελήνη."

Using that name was just unfair - or the most right thing he could possibly have done. Depending on your point of view.

Could he tell Octavia had been putting herself under a lot of pressure lately? Because her breath caught, and then there were just tears.

"Oh," Lucifer said quietly.

And then tugged her into his arms.

The mostly empty cup got shoved haphazardly aside.

Octavia didn't fight the tugging. She went into it like a ragdoll, if anything. (Sobbing, despite her best efforts.)

"It's all right," Lucifer whispered, hoping she wouldn't hear the hint of helplessness in his voice. He held her close, sliding his hand up her back. "It's all right."

Maybe helplessness was just natural.

It wasn't supposed to be like this. Octavia was supposed to be stable, solid, able to just take things, whatever came her way. Be osleya again. Wasn't that what was needed of her?

But she was crying helplessly against Lucifer's shoulder instead, her arms winding their way around him to cling.

No. No, it wasn't needed of her.

They just needed Octavia. Lucifer just needed Octavia.

And this felt more like her than she had in weeks. So he held her. Murmured, maybe, a soft, "Ai Okteivia," into her ear.

Definitely didn't make the clinging lessen any.

And somewhere in between the sobbing Octavia managed a gasp of, "Skaifaya."

Because this was probably the most Octavia she'd been in weeks.

Lucifer's fingers slid soothingly up and down along her spine, over the fabric of her shirt.

"I'm here."

Octavia tried to take a few deeper breaths, to calm her body down a little, and was mostly successful.

Even if that meant that some clarity regarding the situation was beginning to seep in.

She shuddered.

Lucifer's arms tightened around her in response. "That's it," he said softly. "Breathe."

He'd ask questions later.

A lot later, preferably?

Octavia's face burned, for reasons she had not yet processed. But she breathed. Slowly in through the nose. Out through the mouth.

As always.

However much later until she seemed like she was in a frame of mind to answer them again.

Lucifer let his breathing fall into the rhythm of hers.

In through the nose. Out through the mouth.

It soothed Octavia much more than she could have said, the way she felt the rise and fall of their chests syncing up. Helped her find a slow rhythm, too. And to ease some of the desperation out of her clinging.

Her shoulders had stopped shaking, and the sobs had ceased.

Good. Good. Something unclenched in Lucifer's chest, too, though he was too afraid to break the silence to voice that.

He just... kept. Going. Waiting. Listening to her breathe, to her settling.

Octavia kept just focusing on her breathing for a long moment more. But the calmer her body got, the more her thoughts all came back to her. Some clearer than before, though that made some of them kind of painful.

Her cheeks felt too warm.

"I'm sorry I thought you didn't want to," she told him, very, very quietly. Her voice sounded like... Well, like she'd been crying her eyes out. No surprise there. "That was stupid."

And it wasn't even the only thing.

"It's all right," Lucifer murmured.

His hand finally slid up, into her hair. "I'm glad I could at least disabuse you of that thought."

"I..." Octavia started, then hesitated.

But she was already feeling embarrassed, so what was one more thing?

"I almost dropped by the house yesterday," she muttered. "Thought I'd take a bath, maybe. But I -- I couldn't make myself go in. Into the house."

Lucifer-- well, he wasn't sure how to react to that.

"Why not?" he asked. "You know you're always more than welcome to."

Just like she knew he would always want date nights with her?

"Didn't feel... mine. My place."

More in the figurative sense, but it was hard for her to put into words. What with the shame now that some of her thoughts had cleared.

"But it is."

Duke and Octavia were going to give him a complex, with how odd they were about his house, honestly.

"It's ours."

Hey now, Octavia had been fully aware of her rights with the house for years, and had taken occasional advantage of that. This had just been... a bad blip.

Hence:

"I know. But I felt like, with the date nights..."

She didn't actually want to finish that thought out loud, so she hoped he could infer enough from her trailing off.

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