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“We’ll workshop it,” Lauren?iu says lightly, and Paimon realizes that he could spend thousands of nights like this.
“I think it’s what he might’ve wanted if he saw me now.”
“God?”
“Cassiel. To have me feel all of this. The emptiness in my chest, the Darkness—that’s him. The absence of Heaven. The absence of Him. The absence ofhim.”
“Maybe he would’ve wanted you to forgive yourself and move on. Isn’t that the godly thing to do?”
“Oh, this was way before J.C., darling. Heaven back then was much more vengeful.”
“The world, all the worlds, are cruel. I had a miserable time on Earth, and Hell, when I was in Wrath, was terrible and fiery and lonely. It was an inferno, and I lived thigh-deep in a lake of blood. But I still saw people clinging to one another. So long as we’re here, as long as people are here, there has to be love, right? It doesn’t just go away. Nothing gets truly destroyed, just scattered and reused.”
Paimon is silent in thought. Maybe Lauren?iu is right, and his heart swells with something like hope.
They both look at their entwined fingers.
Just then, Paimon opens his mouth. He thinks about what he’ll say next, which is unusual for him. How he wants to ask what’s next. He hasn’t forgotten how Lauren?iu seems to have something on his mind that’s made him fraught. No doubt he wants to complete his revenge. And then they—
With a spontaneity Paimon has never associated with his vampire, Lauren?iu surges forward; his lips fall on Paimon’s. The touch is brief but lingers in a mix of need and uncertainty.
The demon king hesitates, remembering how in Hell in the bath, he just wished Lauren?iu had kissed him, but he also knew why he didn’t.
When Lauren?iu pulls away, a dark crease above his brow, Paimon reaches out.
“Are you sure?” Paimon asks softly, his hand cradling Lauren?iu’s jaw; though the vampire’s skin is cool, underneath, he feels the pounding heat of blood. “Are you sure you want this?”
“Yes.”
He comments, “You're tense.”
"I'm always tense," Lauren?iu jokes.
Paimon isn’t sure how to navigate this; he has to trust Lauren?iu’s word and direction. Lucifer is always pliant. But he also doesn’t want to go too far. “Is there something on your mind?”
“Why do you care about me? How can you care for a revenge-obsessed monster?”
Paimon stares, not comprehending the question. Yes, Lauren?iu has always had this self-consciousness. Always aware of being looked at.
It’s never been a debate for him. Whether he can be loved? Yes. But Lauren?iu—it’s as if Lauren?iu has always been here. As if they’ve shared several lifetimes together, going to bed together. undressing and redressing. “Because that’s you.”
“Is that it? I don’t understand.”
“I love the part of you that maims and kills, that craves a reckoning, but that’s not all there is.”
“What else is there?”
“You love greasy diner hashbrowns and one of the worst football teams ever.”
Lauren?iu gives a playful scoff. “Well. That’s good. I wouldn’t say theworstever.”
“You care for Adrian, too. And you won’t settle for less despite being told you deserve less.” Paimon says all this and expects that it’s not enough. “It’s good to be capable of being loved.”
Lauren?iu observes, “You say that as if you’re excluded from it.”
I want love, but I don’t deserve it.
To be fallen is to never have love.I had love. Perfect love. God. Cassiel. and I killed it. Destroyed it. Fell.
