A Dark Place (Lucifer x Reader)

Part 3

You didn't know.

And—truly—is it your fault?

You bite your lip, a sudden tremor traveling through your body that makes you tremble on Satan's couch. It prompts you to bury your head in the leather fabric, despite knowing that it will offer you no refuge from the agony of your mind.

A cold sensation makes you flinch, and you open your eyes worriedly to see the Avatar of Wrath pressing a glass of water against your cheek.

"Drink," He commands, though his voice carries the undertones of sympathy to it. "It'll make you feel better."

Begrudgingly, you accept the glass of water and force yourself to take a sip when the blonde's eyes don't leave you, wrinkling your nose when the taste hits your tongue.

"This isn't water," You complain, the bitterness overpowering your senses.

Satan smiles.

"Bottoms up," He says, tapping the glass, and you force the fluid down your throat with Satan's earlier promise ringing through your mind.

It'll make you feel better.

Right now, feeling better is exactly what you need. For the past two days, you've been cooped up in your (Lucifer's) room, buried under the covers while trying to ignore the pain in your heart. You haven't been able to sleep, and you haven't been able to eat, and you would probably still be in bed if Satan hadn't dragged you out to force you to have lunch. Of course, you had thrown such a fit about eating that the blonde accepted defeat and had simply opted to drag you to his room instead, but it's done little to help you out of this rut. For the past two hours now, you've been curled up on his couch, feeling as miserable as you look.

You drop the glass on the carpeted floor with a thud, groaning lightly once its contents have all gone down your throat. That didn't do shit, you think, glaring at Satan while he walks to his desk and flips open a book, ignoring your gaze entirely as he flips through the chapters.

Finally, he stops, turning his body to you while reading a page out loud.

"Withdrawal," He says, voice clear. "Breaking a contract is akin to the human affliction of withdrawal. Demons become dependent on the sustenance offered by the symbiotic nature of pacts, and any sudden deprivation of said pact results in intense sensations of withdrawal, including: agitation, restlessness, nausea, disorientation, irritability, nightmares, dilated pupils, increased sensitivity to pain, loss of appetite, shakiness, and overall weakness. Common coping mechanisms include reforming the original pact, and/or developing separate pacts. "

You groan.

You didn't know.

You couldn't have known, really, how much it would impact you when you and Lucifer broke the pact. But you both did it anyway, and now your body is suffering the consequences.

"Congrats, detective." You roll your eyes and scowl at the ceiling, focusing your gaze away from Satan. "You figured it out."

The demon sighs softly, walking over to you as he brushes the stray strands of hair from your forehead. This morning, you'd been sweating unbearably, but now you feel nothing but cold as his fingers push your hair back, and you can't be certain if you're trembling from the temperature or from some other affliction. Perhaps it's withdrawal, as Satan had said.

"I take it confessing your feelings to Lucifer didn't go well?" He offers a sympathetic smile, and you have to suppress the urge to roll over on the couch and ignore him.

"I didn't even get to that," You mutter. "I was going to give him a massage as an apology for ignoring him for a week, you know. And afterward, I was going to tell him. But..."