Lucifer's Mansion, Wednesday Evening

[my_own_advocate]

Octavia was back at work. Just like that. Like this was a normal week, and they'd had a normal time, and he entire world hadn't suddenly gone upside down.

Lucifer was having a harder time of it. Perhaps, though, she was right, and what he needed was some... semblance of a routine again.

So on a whim, he'd texted Duke about date night. Then he'd run off to the store to pick up supplies, and... now he was here. In the kitchen. Readying his lasagna for the oven while he waited for Duke to arrive, a bottle of wine sitting on the table.

Everything. Was fine.

[[ for him ]]

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[betterthanaplan]

If they all pretended that way hard enough, it would eventually be true, right?

Duke had yet to fully shake the sense of unreality that had hit him after they got back from Haven. He definitely hadn’t managed to process any of what had actually happened to him over the weekend. But he was happy, for now, to lean into pretending to be normal.

Which would be why he spent half an hour debating whether or not to wear any of the stuff he and Octavia had purchased a week and a half ago. In the end, he decided “yes”, but kept it simple. Just a pair of lacy briefs under his usual jeans and button down.

He arrived on time, pausing in the doorway to just breathe in the scent of the place.

(Had his sense of smell gotten better? Maybe? Maybe he was just hyperaware of everything right now. All he knew for sure was that the smells in here didn’t make him think of Hell, and that was absolutely fine with him.)

“Smells good,” he called, as he followed his nose to the kitchen. “Italian, huh?”