[ Love says Elio, both hands folded on top of Lucifer's and isn't it unfair in a way, that Elio's the one who can't walk from his own bed and all the same, here he is, grounding Lucifer, giving him strength that he can't even spare. Unfair, yes. Unfair doesn't even begin to cover this. It's a loss, yes, and those are rarely kind - in the cosmic sense, kindness isn't even truly a concept. Face twisting for a second, two, he controls himself with effort and keeps his hand where it is, on top of Elio's midriff, feeling the small, slightly uneven tremors of his body breathing, trying to keep itself going.
Fighting.
Love, he says. Lucifer blinks, wetly but the tears don't spill. ]
I'm...
[ Glad, he wants to say. Happy. A liar, one might also proclaim but Lucifer isn't and thus, Lucifer doesn't. Instead, he looks at Elio, his scarred thumb brushing over the covers, feeling the shape of him underneath, his naked body. On impulse, because he can't stop himself (because he can't bear to, it already takes too much), Lucifer pulls his hand out from underneath Elio's two and slips it beneath the covers instead, until he can touch him, his stomach and midriff, the too-prominent outlines of his ribs. He feels him like that, spreading out his fingers over his belly before running his hand upwards, all the way to the middle of his chest.
Pause.
He keeps his hand there, above his heart. Still beating. Not gone.
Love, he says.
Lips trembling, he just stands there and bends his head, his wings drooping sadly behind him, the tips dragging over the floor. On a heavy, shaky inhalation, he finally meets Elio's gaze and hates that he can't show him properly, not like this, not with these ugly, empty, soulless eyes. Around them, the stillness remains, unchanged. ]
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Fighting.
Love, he says. Lucifer blinks, wetly but the tears don't spill. ]
I'm...
[ Glad, he wants to say. Happy. A liar, one might also proclaim but Lucifer isn't and thus, Lucifer doesn't. Instead, he looks at Elio, his scarred thumb brushing over the covers, feeling the shape of him underneath, his naked body. On impulse, because he can't stop himself (because he can't bear to, it already takes too much), Lucifer pulls his hand out from underneath Elio's two and slips it beneath the covers instead, until he can touch him, his stomach and midriff, the too-prominent outlines of his ribs. He feels him like that, spreading out his fingers over his belly before running his hand upwards, all the way to the middle of his chest.
Pause.
He keeps his hand there, above his heart. Still beating. Not gone.
Love, he says.
Lips trembling, he just stands there and bends his head, his wings drooping sadly behind him, the tips dragging over the floor. On a heavy, shaky inhalation, he finally meets Elio's gaze and hates that he can't show him properly, not like this, not with these ugly, empty, soulless eyes. Around them, the stillness remains, unchanged. ]