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Chloe stares down at Marcus, wondering if her brain is short-circuiting or if he really did just ask her to marry him. She replays the night, from that dinner at Lucifer’s where her heart broke for the she-doesn’t-even-know time to capturing their killer. Maybe she got shot on the job and this is some weird version of Heaven? Only, deep down, she knows Marcus down on one knee isn’t her idea of Heaven.
This is just...it’s insane. They hadn’t even been dating for long—a month from the Axara concert—before he broke up with her because she apparently wasn’t worth it and a relationship was too hard for him to deal with, and now he’s proposing? Some faint part of her mind wonders if this is just another step in Marcus’s weird one-up-manship with Lucifer.
Lucifer makes her dinner. Marcus proposes. She’s sure that makes sense in some weird bizarro world.
What is happening right now?
It’s too soon, right? Like, way too soon. Trixie hasn’t even met him. He has to be joking.
Then she remembers who she’s looking at and Marcus never jokes. Which means he’s completely serious. Marcus wants to marry her. But does she want to marry Marcus?
Steady and reliable both sort of went out the window when he broke up with her the other night. She can tell herself he was just a little spooked all she wants, but her confidence in him flew out the door right after he did.
Her mind flashes back a few hours to when she walked into the penthouse to find it filled with flowers and candles, and a table set for two. How her hope began to build beneath her confusion. Right up until Lucifer sat across from her and said, “Isn’t this better than anything Pierce could do?”
Rather than letting her heart break again or the tears threatening to build in her eyes (again), she wonders if she should be saying yes to marrying one man when just a couple hours ago she was desperately hoping for a different question from another man.
Chloe doesn’t know what makes her look towards the windows, but she does and feels her heart stop. Lucifer is there, his expression more raw than she's ever seen it. There’s a plea in his eyes, though for what, she isn’t entirely sure. As she watches, he shakes his head minutely.
“Chloe?”
She blinks, her gaze snapping back to Marcus, who’s watching her expectantly. “Um...give me a minute? I-I need to...think.”
Something like frustration or irritation flashes in Marcus’s eyes, but he pushes it away quickly. Not quickly enough. “Sure. Of course,” he says stiffly, letting his hands drop.
Without waiting for him to finish speaking, she’s beelining for the backdoor and stepping onto the patio. For a second, she thinks Lucifer may have left. Relief rushes through her when she finds he’s only stepped back from the window, maybe to avoid Marcus seeing him. Chloe does the same, crossing her arms and looking up at him.
There’s no smug smirk on Lucifer’s face. No mischievous glint in his eyes. No innuendo on his tongue. He looks gutted and as close to desperate as she’s ever seen him.
“What are you doing here?”
“Don’t do it.”
Her glare softens and her eyebrows pull down in confusion. “What?”
Lucifer sucks in a stuttering breath and takes half a step closer to her. Close enough that she can smell his cologne and something she thinks is uniquely him. Close enough that she can feel the heat radiating off his body. “Don’t say yes to him, Detective,” he murmurs, his tone right on the edge of pleading.
Her lips part with a question, though she isn’t even sure what her question is going to be. She thinks of Marcus inside, waiting for an answer with a ring in his hands. She thinks of him telling her she isn’t worth it. She thinks of all the months she wanted Lucifer to be real with her, to admit that he feels the same about her as she does about him. Of kisses on the beach and hugs on the stairs. Bullet necklaces and prom dances. Game nights and laughter and the best partner she’s ever had.
She wonders what would have happened if Lucifer was the one to drop to one knee with a ring and ask her to marry him. Would she have hesitated the way she did with Marcus? Or would she have known exactly what answer to give?
The memory from tonight comes rushing back. Her tearful questions as a beautiful meal sat between them, untouched and growing cold, practically begging Lucifer to give her one honest answer. And he couldn’t do it. It was more of his bullshit of what she deserves and his self-proclaimed unworthiness.
“Why not?” she whispers.
Lucifer’s eyebrows furrow and his mouth opens and closes a few times.
Nothing comes out.
Her heart sinks. This is just more of him giving her just enough to keep her close. But not too close, because he doesn’t do that sort of thing. “Lucifer. You can’t keep doing this. I can’t keep fucking doing this,” she says, her voice hardening with every word. Even has her heart splinters yet again for this man. His mouth falls open at her cursing, but she’s over it. “I told you earlier, you can’t—”
“Have it both ways,” he finishes for her. “Yes, I heard you, Detective. That isn’t what this is, I promise.”
“Then, what? Because right now, it feels exactly like—”
“Choose me.”
Chloe stops speaking mid-sentence, wondering if she misheard that. “What?”
He takes a breath and steps closer. “I came here to tell you that I want you to choose me, Chloe.”
An involuntary shiver runs through her at the sound of her name on his lips, as always when he says it. The way his tongue curls around it, and how he speaks it with so much reverence. As if it's something sacred and precious. He uses it so rarely, and only to punctuate the important moments between them. That he's using it now tells her that whatever he's trying to say to her, he means it. This isn't another game.
“Choose you?” She shakes her head, her pulse picking up, and her heart pounding against her ribs. “For what?”
Looking away briefly, getting his thoughts in order, Lucifer runs a hand through his hair, leaving it to stick up in curls at all angles. “I should have been honest with you at dinner,” he says quietly, turning back to her. His eyes are bright, tight at the corners. He’s a little hunched, as if whatever he’s feeling is pressing on his shoulders and weighing him down. “I should have told you that there is nobody more important to me than you. That I want to be the one taking you out—to concerts and to dinner, and anywhere else you will have me. I want to be with you, Chloe, however you desire, for as long as you desire it.”
Chloe stares at him, holding her breath lest she miss one word of what he’s saying. The speech she wanted so badly to hear a few hours ago.
His hand lifts and presses to her cheek, his thumb caressing feather-light below her eye. She has to physically stop herself from leaning into his touch as he continues, “I know that I messed up, but if you give me another chance, I will spend every day from here on trying to be worthy of you. To be whoever and whatever you need me to be.”
Chloe stares at him, the warmth of his hand on her skin shooting through the rest of her. Lighting her up from the inside. In the back of her mind, she’s thinking that Marcus never made her feel this way. He never looked at her like his whole world hinges on what she says or does next, not even when he proposed a few minutes ago. Lucifer, though... Lucifer has always looked at her this way—when he thought she wasn’t looking.
Like everything she says or does matters. Like her opinion of him outweighs anyone else’s. Like she’s the center of his world.
“You mean that?” she asks softly.
His thumb continues to tenderly stroke beneath her eye. “With everything that I am,” he murmurs.
She wants to believe him, to believe this is finally the push he needed to realize what he wants. She thinks about his speech just now and how he’s offering to be whoever she needs. And she thinks about how the rest of the world is always pushing him to be what they want him to be; how he never just gets to be himself. He’s the so-called Devil and the nightclub owner and Mr. Sex-on-Legs.
But Chloe knows there’s a side of him he hides from the rest of the world—the sweet, kind, caring man who’s spent so much of his life burying his hurt and fear beneath distraction. He’s the man who threw her a prom because she was sad about missing her own and gave her the most thoughtful, strangest birthday gift she’s ever gotten. The man who proclaims to despise children but adores Trixie. Someone who’s always there when Chloe needs him and has done more for her than anybody else in her life.
She thinks about Marcus who, despite dating for a month, she hardly knows because he’s even more of an enigma than the man in front of her now. Who said he’d go at her pace, then pushed every milestone in their relationship before she was ready.
For once, she allows herself to be completely honest: She doesn’t love Marcus. Liked him, maybe, but he never made her heart flutter and race. She thinks she was more infatuated with the idea of being in a relationship—any relationship—than with Marcus himself. The thought of marrying him and spending the rest of her life lying to herself about what she truly desires...
She can’t do it.
She won’t do it.
Even if Lucifer wasn’t here now saying all the things she’s been waiting to hear for months from his lips, she doesn’t think she’d accept Marcus’s proposal. Or so she hopes.
How did she even get here? A few months ago, she couldn’t even get one man to proclaim his feelings for her; now there are two of them. And she knows exactly who and what she wants.
“I know who I need you to be, Lucifer.” Chloe steps closer, their bodies not quite touching. For half a blink, she thinks she sees hurt in his eyes. Does he think she’s going to be like everyone else, asking him to pretend for her benefit and enjoyment?
Her hands rest on either side of his neck, thumbs brushing beneath his jaw. She feels a shiver run through him as he raises a questioning, hopeful eyebrow. Pushing onto the tips of her toes, she kisses the corner of his mouth. His lips part and he pulls in a surprised, shuddering breath. “Just you, Lucifer Morningstar. My partner.”
Tentatively, hands find her waist. “Detective,” he whispers, hope shining in his eyes now.
“I wish you would have said this before, during dinner, but...I choose you, Lucifer.”
Lips crash against hers the moment his name is out of her mouth and one hand slides up her back, bringing her closer, until it slides into her hair as if he was simply waiting for that cue. Heat rushes through her blood, lighting her up from the inside, and she could easily lose herself in this kiss...if her mind didn’t remind her that they aren’t entirely alone. When she backs away, Lucifer instinctively follows, making her smile.
“Just, um, give me five minutes?” she whispers against his lips. “There’s just one loose end I need to take care of.”
It takes him a second to clear the dazed look from his eyes and for them to flash with realization. “Right. Of course, Detective.”
He drops his arms from around her, and she feels immediately colder. “I’ll be right back.” She gives him a small smile and forces herself to turn away from him, already feeling bereft.
Slipping his hands into his pockets, he steps back and she feels his eyes on her all the way back inside where Marcus is pacing like a caged animal. She sees frustration and impatience and annoyance on his face before he sees her and masks it with relief and a pleasant smile.
“There you are,” he says softly. “For a second, I thought maybe you ran off.”
“No,” Chloe says with an awkward little smile. She was just outside kissing another man. No biggie. “But um, we need to talk, Marcus.”
His expression starts to falter. “Okay. What is it?”
Rather than dragging this out, she takes a deep breath and rips the band-aid off. “I can’t marry you.”
For a few seconds, he stares at her like he didn’t hear her. His eyebrows furrow, and he tilts his head a little, his eyes flicking back and forth across her face. Then his jaw tightens and his eyes flash with an emotion too quickly for her to identify it. “Why?”
Where does she even start? “Because you broke up with me, Marcus. After a few weeks of dating. You told me I’m not worth it, and then, you turn around and ask me to marry you? That isn’t how relationships work, and even if it were, you haven’t even met my daughter. I can’t make a decision like this without talking to her first.”
Marcus shrugs dismissively, as if Trixie is entirely inconsequential. “So we can have a long engagement. I can show you how serious I am about this, Chloe. How serious I am about you.”
She shakes her head. “I’m sorry. But my answer is no.”
His eyes harden in an instant. “Is this about Lucifer?”
It takes everything in her not to look towards the window. “No. Lucifer doesn’t make my decisions. This is about you and me, and how I don’t think marrying you is or ever will be what I want.”
A muscle in his jaw twitches. “This is a mistake, Chloe.”
The look in his eyes suggests he’s talking about more than her turning down his proposal. Lucifer’s face pops into her mind.
“I’m sorry, but I don’t think it is.”
Marcus takes a step closer to her and while a feeling in her gut tells her to back away, and her muscles tense to obey, Chloe stands her ground. “He’s not who you think he is, Chloe,” he says in a low voice, his eyes darting over her shoulder—towards the window. “One day, you’re going to see that.”
Without another word, Marcus leaves, slamming the door behind him. A second later, the backdoor opens.
“Apologies, Detective. I think he may have spotted me.”
Chloe shakes her head, watching Marcus’s exit with furrowed eyebrows. “Don’t worry about it.” She turns towards Lucifer. “We should probably talk, too. Would you like a drink?”
Lucifer nods, still giving her that small, reverent smile she loves. “Please, Detective.”
With a smile, she heads for the kitchen. As much as she would love to simply continue where they left off outside, they do need to talk. Then she can crawl into his lap and kiss him within an inch of his life.