Threads of Fate (Lucifer Fan Fiction)

Chapter 11: The Glass Wall of Regret

The early morning light crept into Lucifer's room, casting long shadows on the sleek black floors. He had spent the entire night haunted by the memory of Maya's face, the warmth of her lips on his, and the tear-filled, confused look she had as he walked out of the hospital room.

Lucifer ran his hands through his hair, groaning. "What the hell is wrong with me?" he muttered to himself. He had never felt this disoriented, this unsure of his actions. Maya wasn't just another girl. She was different, and he had ruined everything.

His heart clenched as he replayed her voice in his mind: "I love you."

And yet, instead of reciprocating or saying something meaningful, he had panicked and left.

"I'm such an idiot," he whispered, his voice hoarse.

By mid-morning, Lucifer had made up his mind. He had to go back to the hospital. He needed to apologize, to explain why he had left so abruptly. He couldn't let Maya think she wasn't important to him.

He grabbed his car keys and bolted out of his penthouse, barely acknowledging the curious looks of his staff. His luxury sports car roared to life as he sped through the streets of Paris, his usual calculated demeanour replaced by desperation.

When he finally reached the hospital, he rushed to the reception desk, his heart pounding.

"Maya. The girl who was admitted yesterday," he said, barely able to keep his voice steady.

The receptionist raised an eyebrow, clearly unimpressed by his urgency. "She's already checked out."

Lucifer froze. "What?"

"She left this morning," the woman said, returning her attention to her computer.

For a moment, Lucifer felt the floor shift beneath him. Maya was gone? Where could she have gone so quickly?

Lucifer stepped outside the hospital, his hands trembling as he dialled Maya's roommate. His fingers fumbled over the screen, a sign of his growing panic.

The phone rang twice before a groggy voice answered, "Hello?"

"It's Lucifer," he said quickly. "Where's Maya?"

There was a pause on the other end. "Why do you care? She left the hospital because of you!"

"I know, I know," Lucifer said, his tone desperate. "I messed up, okay? Just tell me where she is."

The roommate hesitated before sighing. "She's leaving France. She's heading back to India. She said she can't take it anymore—this place, the people... you."

Lucifer felt like he'd been punched in the stomach. "When's her flight?"

"She's already on her way to the airport," the roommate said. "But good luck. Her flight leaves soon."

Lucifer didn't waste another second. He jumped into his car and sped toward Charles de Gaulle Airport, weaving through traffic with reckless abandon. He ignored the blaring horns and angry shouts of other drivers as he swerved through lanes, his mind focused solely on one thing: reaching Maya before it was too late.

"She can't leave like this. Not without knowing how I feel." The journey felt endless, every red light and traffic jam an agonizing delay. By the time he reached the airport, his shirt clung to his back, and his breathing was uneven. He sprinted through the terminal, dodging travelers and security guards alike.

"Maya!" he called out, his voice echoing through the bustling airport. But there was no answer.

When Lucifer reached the departure gate, his heart sank. Through the large glass windows, he could see the plane parked on the tarmac. Passengers were boarding, and Maya was among them.

She stood in line, her suitcase in hand, her shoulders slumped. Even from a distance, Lucifer could see the sadness etched on her face.

He rushed to the glass wall, his hands pressing against the cold surface as if he could reach her through it. "Maya!" he shouted, his voice muffled by the thick glass.

Maya turned, startled. Her eyes widened when she saw him, a mix of surprise and pain flickering across her face. She walked closer to the glass, her footsteps hesitant.

When they were finally face to face, separated only by the barrier, neither of them spoke at first.

Lucifer's chest heaved as he tried to find the words. His lips moved, but no sound came out. All he could do was mouth the word, "Sorry."

Maya's eyes filled with tears. She placed her hand against the glass, mirroring his. Her lips trembled as she mouthed back, "Sorry, too."

The weight of their emotions hung between them, heavier than any words could express. They were so close, yet the glass wall felt like an insurmountable chasm.

Lucifer's mind raced. He wanted to beg her to stay, to tell her he needed her more than he had ever needed anyone. But he couldn't, not like this.

Maya shook her head, tears streaming down her face. She mouthed, "Goodbye," before turning away and walking toward the gate.

Lucifer banged his fist against the glass, his voice cracking as he shouted, "Maya, don't go!"

But she didn't look back.  

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