All in Due Time

Chapter 5

Lucifer was, understandably, stressed.

Though 'stressed' didn't even begin to cover what the avatar of pride felt as he completed bills, reports, and party finalizations alike.

With every passing second, Lucifer felt more and more overwhelmed. Every muscle across his body was tense as he shot through one document after the other. The words began to blur together as his eyes scanned each page. Only catching enough for him to get the gist of each paragraph. His hand ached as the black fountain pen that he gripped tightly flew across each document. Even as he finished another piece of paperwork, Lucifer couldn't unclench his jaw nor relax his shoulders.

After skimming through Lord Diavolo's dinner party speech for the third time in the past hour, Lucifer was sure he had managed to fix all of the more noticeable mistakes. He replaced any misused words, reworded any poorly phrased sentences, and removed useless tangents that did nothing but make the speech longer than needed. The speech was no prize, there were still several spelling and grammar mistakes that he had chosen to ignore, along with a few syntax errors as well. Smaller mistakes like that would go unnoticed under the future king's natural charm, so he felt no guilt in leaving them in.

Usually, Lucifer was more attentive to such small details and would take his time whenever he worked. He always stresses the importance of quality over quantity. However, the black-haired demon didn't have the time to waste dotting his i's or crossing his t's. With the quickly approaching due dates and Lord Diavolo's dinner party tomorrow evening, the avatar of pride found himself a bit strapped for time.

So much so that he had almost considered asking Barbatos for help. Wondering if he wouldn't mind taking over some of the paperwork regarding R.A.D's student council or even those regarding the final preparations for the dinner party. He knew he needed only ask, and the butler would gracefully offer his help. But his sin had stopped Lucifer before he could even pick up his D.D.D to call the green-haired demon.

Despite the fact that he knew better than to think Barbatos or Lord Diavolo would look down on him for admitting he needed help, Lucifer couldn't help the overbearing disgust that built in his chest at the thought of being seen as incompetent. So, instead, he had simply gone down to the kitchen to make himself a cup of coffee, clearing his mind, before returning to his office to continue working. And since then, he hadn't so much as looked up from his desk. He would finish one document, slide it into the correct file folder before pulling out whatever document demanded his attention next.

Seating plan conformation for Lord Diavolo's dinner party. Next.

Hydro bill. Next.

End of year report for R.A.D. Next.

Invoice addressed to Mammon. Next.

Lord Diavolo's dinner party itinerary conformation. Next.

The House of Lamentations monthly budget review. Next.

Slipping the reviewed budget for July into the black file folder labelled House of Lamentations. Lucifer lifted his hand to grab a letter that looked like another invoice, much to his distaste. His gloved fingers grabbed the thin white envelope laying it on his desk in front of him. He made quick work of grabbing his letter opener from the top right drawer of his desk—a simple brass blade with a detailed peacock feather handle—and moved to slice open the letter's seal.

However, this time, the usually unconscious movement took more energy than it should have. Lucifer's muscle ached with stiffness as he weakly slid the blade through the envelope's gummed seal. And Lucifer, in all his stress and exhaustion, had only managed to make it halfway through the seal before the blade slipped from his hand. Falling to his desk with a mocking clunk.