"I don't care!" Arabella yells. "I don't care that you're the devil. I don't care that you have wings or a scary face. I don't even care that you are thousands of years old and used to rule Hell. Lucifer. I love you, no one else, you. And nothing, n...
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"WHAT EXACTLY IS 'HOMECOMING'," A confused Lucifer questioned from inside Arabella's bedroom in the now completed Mikaelson Manson. They had just arrived in the small town from Los Angeles, and it was currently 10 in the morning. Lucifer decided to come with the Mikaelson duo. He claimed he did so out of boredom, although anyone could tell he did it to follow the young hybrid.
Rebekah was meant to come as well, although Niklaus claimed she wished to stay in the city. Although Arabella found it strange her Uncle allowed her to stay, he usually wasn't that lenient. Maybe he was experiencing one of his rare moments of sympathy, although rare, they did happen.
"It's a dance," Arabella said to her companion simply as she shifts through her closet. Attempting to find something suitable for a homecoming, she had personally never been to a school dance and was quite excited. She had never been allowed to go to a high school, much less a high school dance. And no matter how much she shifted through her large wardrobe, she couldn't find anything she liked.
"A dance? For teenagers?" Lucifer continues to question. Homecoming made little sense to him, he was still quite lost to what exactly it was and why Arabella wished to attend.
"Yes. A dance for teenagers," the young hybrid conforms. Moving around the room once again to search for her phone. She had come to the conclusion she had nothing in either her closet or Rebekahs to wear, which meant she had to go shopping. And shopping wasn't a task she enjoyed doing alone, she had hoped to text Caroline and ask the young girl if she would come with her.
"That doesn't make sense," Lucifer speaks again. Pausing for a moment to notice Arabella's semi-frantic searching, "What are you looking for?" He questions. His eyes following her around the room with a smirk.
"My phone," Arabella mumbles distracted. Knocking all of the pillows off her bed to look under them. Having no luck as she continues to search the room. Although an amused chuckle causes her to freeze, turning to face the man in the room.
A smirk is placed on his stupidly handsome face as he holds the familiar iPhone in the air, waving tauntingly above his head and out of Arabella's reach. The realization that he had her phone the whole time causes an annoyed groan to fall out of the young hybrids' mouth. Of course, he had it, why wouldn't he have taken her phone. This was Lucifer after all.
"Lucifer. Give me my phone," Arabella demands the man annoyed. Moving to stand in front of him, annoyance clear on her face. Looking up at him with a roll of her eyes. The amusement growing on his face when she couldn't reach the phone.
"No," He continues smugly. Looking down at the beautiful, and angry, brunette who was trying to snatch her phone back from his hand. Her reaching continues for a couple more minutes before an idea comes to mind. If there was one thing Arabella knew about Lucifer, it was that he had a habit of thinking with the wrong head. Like almost every other male she knew.
