"I'm fine." His voice was quiet, barely loud enough for her to hear. "Go back inside."

"You're bleeding," she said, ignoring his command as she slowly approached. "Do you need some help? Do you need me to call someone?"

"I'm fine," he said again. "Go back inside."

Once more, she ignored him, closing the rest of the distance between them. Lucifer exhaled loudly, the scent of her swarming him when he inhaled again. Flowers. She smelled like fucking flowers. How he missed that…

Before he could react, her hands were on him, touching him, one hand grasping his bicep while the other reached for his chest. He hissed when her fingertips connected with the bare skin. It was scarcely a graze, but he felt it deep down like a jolt of electricity. He damn near shivered.

"Oh God, I didn't hurt you, did I?" she asked, yanking her hand back away. "You're hurt. Geez, you're burning up! I'm so sorry. I just… come on, come inside. I'll get you some help."

"I'm fine," he said for the third time, but it was pointless. She yanked on his arm, and although he was strong enough to resist her, he didn't. He let her drag him toward the motel, heading inside with her. She shoved him toward a chair and he plopped down in it, shaking his head as she scrambled around for something, disappearing into a side room briefly.

She returned with a wet rag and immediately started blotting the blood from his skin. Lucifer sat as still as possible, watching her with disbelief as she rambled on and on. "What happened to you? Did you get cut or something? Did somebody do this to you? It looks like something, like a pattern or something… it's starting to heal already, though. How long ago did it happen? Does it hurt? What happened to you?"

The same questions asked in a loop.

Lucifer didn't answer a single one of them, just staring at her, stunned to be this close again. She was utterly beautiful… flawless creamy skin and the deepest brown eyes. Blue was pure, sure, like the sky above, but her brown eyes were as rich and warm as the earth. There was something comforting about them. He once envied the humans because they were given the Earth, but looking at her, he wondered if maybe Paradise was to be found in a person and not a place.

"What is this?" she asked, running the rag around the wound. "It's some shape, like a triangle with a graph, and hook and a 'V'. I've, uh… I've seen this somewhere before. Who did this to you? What is it?"

Reaching up, Luce palmed her cheek, his touch making her eyes flutter before she met his gaze again.

"I'm fine," he said. "You should've stayed inside."

She stared into his eyes, her anxiety fading as her shoulders relaxed. She paused the rag near his collarbone, the only movement the rise and fall of her chest, the blink of her eyes, the beat of her heart.

Thump.

Thump.

Thump.

Lucifer listened to the steady rhythm, relishing the sound of it.

"Tell me I'm not crazy," she whispered.

"You're not crazy."

"Tell me you're real."

"I'm real."

"Really real?"

He cracked a smile, his thumb gently stroking her cheek. "As real as you."

"Who are you?" she asked tentatively, biting down on her bottom lip. "Where did you come from?"

He laughed dryly. "That's a long story."

"I have time."

"Not enough," he responded. "Never enough time."

For her, anyway. Luce had all the time in the world. Eternity. But her life would be barely the blink of an eye in the grand scheme of things, and then she'd go to Heaven, and stay in Heaven. And he'd still be here.

Or back down there.

"I have to be crazy," she whispered, more to herself than anyone as she pulled away from him. She plopped down in a chair beside him, tossing the rag down on the desk. She ran her hands down her face, shielding herself as she lowered her head. "You're not real. I'm dreaming again. Wake up, Sarah. Time to wake up."

"Serah," he whispered, pulling her hands away from her face. "Your name's Serah. And you're not crazy… not the crazy you're thinking, anyway."

Crazy for falling for him, maybe.

Eyes wide, she met his gaze again. "You know my name?"

"I do."

"You knew me?" she asked, hesitating before clarifying, "You know me?"

"Yes."

"Who am I?"

"That's another long story."

She sighed with frustration, whispering her name to herself, like she was trying it out. Luce watched her mouth move, sounding it out. Fuck, how he wanted to kiss those lips…

"Were you there?" she asked, the question distracting Luce from thoughts of kissing her before he slipped up and acted on the impulse. Who knew he had any sort of self-control?

"Was I where?"

"In the street," she said. "The day I woke up. Were you there? Because I remember you… I remember your eyes."

He nodded slowly. "I was there."

"What happened to me?" she asked. Such a loaded question. Luce was about to say it was a long story when she cut back in. "Please, I don't care how long it takes, I want to know. I need to know."

He considered it for a moment, considered making up some lie, some boring, believable story that would soothe her curiosity, but he couldn't. Lying used to come so easy for him, and it still did, but he couldn't lie to her about this.