Lucifer doesn't text. Not because he doesn't want to. But because he said he wouldn't. And he meant it.
His apartment feels different now.
Too quiet. Too still.
The couch.
The same couch.
Feels wrong. Like something's missing. Like someone's missing. He sits there anyway.
Leaning back, one arm resting where Arlo used to be. Where he was.
Where his warmth still feels like it should be.
Lucifer exhales slowly, closing his eyes for a moment.
"…You said you'd give him space," he murmurs to himself. So he does.
He doesn't reach for his phone. Doesn't open their messages. Doesn't check if Arlo's online.
Because if he does. He knows he'll break. And Lucifer doesn't break promises. Even ones that hurt. Especially ones that hurt. But that doesn't stop the thoughts.
Did he push too far?
Was the kiss too much?
Did Arlo regret it?
The questions sit there.
Unanswered. Unwelcome.
And yet. Impossible to ignore.
Lucifer sits forward slightly, running a hand through his hair.
"…You're overthinking," he mutters. But this time. There's no one there to call him out on it. No quiet voice. No nervous laugh. No Arlo.
The name lingers in his mind longer than it should. Longer than he lets anything linger.
Because this-
This isn't supposed to matter this much. It's been what? Days? A few moments. A few conversations.
One kiss.
And yet.... It feels like more. Too much more.
Lucifer exhales slowly, reaching for his phone. His thumb hovers over Arlo's contact.
Just one message. Just one "are you okay?"
But he stops. Because he remembers.
"I need time."
His grip tightens slightly around the phone.
"…Okay," he says quietly.
Time. He can give him that. Even if it means sitting in this silence. Even if it means not knowing.
Even if it means.... Missing him.
Lucifer leans back again, staring at the ceiling. Same as Arlo. Different place. Same feeling. And for the first time in a long time.
He doesn't like not being in control.