Existence

9. mind & matter

"She's talking to angels, counting the stars. Making a wish on a passing car. She's dancing with strangers, falling apart." - Daughtry 

Kisses, especially those from a special person, are known to be the closest thing a human being will ever feel to magic. Ever since the womb, our heads were filled with stories of true love's first kiss and love at first sight. For as long as Mandy could remember, she believed it all. Perhaps, she still does. She was always waiting on that love that she has only ever seen in movies or woks of literature. The earth shattering, heart wrenching, time stopping love. Even when she was in a relationship, she knew deep down that it wasn't even close to what she craved. She wanted the beginning of love, the falling in love, the stolen glances and the butterflies. But, these were just the dreams of a teenage girl. A girl who had yet to discover her true self. One who spent her days wishing all kinds of things, but never gave them the opportunity to come true. 

Among those wishes, there was a wish to be normal. She remembers how badly she wanted to be like everyone else. Walking through the corridors of her high school, she wished to be the girls she would see. They never looked out of place, not like she did. She always wondered what she could do or wear to fit in. 

Anything to not be the thorn in the blooming rose of adolescence. 

Sometimes, she thought she may be paranoid. Like her overactive imagination wasn't doing her justice. All she knew was that all of her insecurities were all superimposed in the back of her mind, forming a film that was always showing. 

how she hated that film. 

It was a constant replay of the worst moments in her life. She knew what she was doing. She was torturing herself. Yet, she justified it because she believed that she deserved it. 

She had no idea why being normalcy appealed to her so much, or why she wanted to be normal more than anything else in the world. She had no idea how she let the superficial thoughts steer her away from her goals. High school was like falling down the stairs. One minute, she was in complete control. The next, she was spinning, tumbling without warning. Now, she laid here, at the bottom. Shocked and stunned, and so oddly aware of the fact that she lost herself and ended up so far away from where she wanted to be.

not to mention she tried to kill herself. 

"So when are we going on the next adventure?" She asked as she joined him by the fireplace. 

"Anxious are we?" He chuckled slightly. They were in the living room of his home, and he couldn't help but notice how normal it felt. Mandy didn't look out of place, she looked like she belonged there. 

With him. 

"What else are we going to do?" Her bottom lip was jutted out slightly as she pouted, "No offense but Hell is way more boring than I expected."

"And what exactly did you expect?" His voice came out harsher than he expected, but he didn't apologize. The walls were coming back up, and this time, there was nothing he was going to about it. 

"Oh," If she noticed his sudden change in mood, she didn't show it, "Well there was a reason I was okay being stuck down here. All the interesting people are here. The underdogs, the misfits. The murderers, the whores. The liars, the thieves. It can be a beautiful thing you know, seeing what makes them all those things."

"It isn't like that down here," His jaw was clenched and he unconsciously tightened his hold on the arm of his chair. "You seemed to fool yourself into believing that there is some sort of aesthetic to being sad. Or cruel. Or promiscuous. There is nothing beautiful about hell. I can assure you that much love."

"Maybe, I think that there is some sort of pigmented authenticity down here because most people can relate to it," She was slightly taken aback by his pessimistic turn. He was usually the positive devil, "Look. None of us on Earth feel as if we will ever be good enough. When we rebel against something, or basically just go against the very nature of our lives, we feel powerful for some reason. We feel in control of who we are. We create a mess, one that we can call ours. No one can take that mess away from us. So, we relish in it."

"You humans obsess over control," He shook his head in slight disapproval, "I don't blame you guys though. I often think about what you all have done to deserve the battles you fight everyday. It's nothing compared to the wars you all have waged on each other. You know you are fighting a losing battle, yet you still wake up every morning to fight it."

Mandy was silent, looking at him in admiration while he spilled out his opinions on observing humans for so long. 

 "The battle of mind and matter. You can give up, which you did but we don't talk about that," He  said, earning an eye roll from Mandy as the back of his neck heated up, "Or you can persevere through it. It seems as if you have no choice, but you do. A choice to search endlessly for love in a world that demands it."

"Have you got a bar?" She said, tilting her head to the side, "A conversation like this needs a drink."

"Of course I have a bar," He threw his head back in laughter, which instantly brought a smile to her face, "What's your poison?"

"Whiskey," She leaned back and raised a challenging brow, "Neat." 

"Oh, alright Miss. Mandy," He smirked to himself as he poured her drink, "Always the hard one I see."

"After many lonely nights with nothing but a bottle," She took her glass from Lucifer's offering hand, "I have learned to acquire a taste for my preferred anesthesia."

"So nothing else?" Lucifer raised his brow, "Any drugs? Nicotine? Spontaneous sex?"

"Sex always seemed like a good distraction. Until you end up falling for him like some amateur," She rolled her eyes, rotating the liquid in her glass, "So I just drank. It was safer."

"And lonely," Lucifer muttered, understanding the feeling all too well,  "It's one thing to drown in your sorrows all by your self. We can both do it together tonight."

"I will drink to that," She smiled and tapped her glass to his before bringing it to her lips, "So, your monologue a couple moments ago. Were you talking about humanity, or were you talking about yourself?"

"What do you mean?" His exterior remained calm, the poker face he spent a millennia perfecting didn't even bat an eye. It contrasted greatly to the quickened pace of his heart rate. 

She was always asking the wrong questions. 

"You know exactly what I mean," She scoffed, "You know, you and me aren't that different. We talk about other people to cope."

"Be careful as to what you're implying." The fire reflected onto his dark eyes, as it dimly lit the strong structures of his face. 

"You know what I am implying." She brought the cup to her lips, looking at him from under her eyelashes, "You fight that battle too."

"You may be right." 

"I am right," She rolled her eyes, "I didn't really pay attention in Sunday school, but I know that humanity is made in God's image, just like angels. So, you're just like us. You have a conscious. A heart."

"What are you trying to say?"

"You were an angel once," She set her empty drink onto the table, "Who says you can't be one again?"