Lucideus Drabble

Asmodeus’ hands gently pet Luci’s hair as the demon buttoned the ghost’s slightly wrinkled dress shirt. Luci presses his lips together in concentration, fingers red from being pinched by the tiny buttons.

“Can you do it?” Asmodeus murmurs, looking down at his struggling spouse.

“It’s wrinkled,” Luci complains quietly, giving up on the button he was competing with and moving onto the next one.

“That’s not the issue,” Asmodeus replies, untangling his fingers from the strands of blue to help Luci with his shirt.

Luci eventually gave up with the buttons, gripping the shirt’s sleeves and playing with its hems, “your clothes are complicated.”

“They weren’t yesterday when you were practically tearing them off.”

Luci blushed in embarrassment, frowning slightly before it morphed into a grin, his sharp teeth showing. “Cheeky.”

Asmodeus wrapped his arms around the smaller figure, ignoring how, out of instinct, Luci’s tail wrapped around his leg possessively. They stayed like this for a while.

“What time is it?”

“I think almost 7.”

“We’re going to be late.”

Luci hummed in response. Asmodeus felt the tail around his leg tighten, he knew he was going to be late.

“Anything for you, dear.”