submeme | Picture Prompt Meme

[ When she returned, she was holding a short, half-filled glass that she took a drink from without immediately returning to her seat. ]

You don't get jealous, remember? I'm sure you're not jealous that he's spent more time with me here than you have. Or that I've been playing pretend with him more than I have with you. That would be ridiculous.

I'm not jealous, no [bordering very closely to a lie, though more out of ignorance than intent], but I suppose it depends on what you've been doing. I haven't been cuckolded, have I? I may just have to go over and be righteously angry if that's the case.

You have. Sleeping with the suspect was my plan the whole time. How'd you figure it out? [ Her eyes were fixed on him as she moved closer. ]

Have you never felt jealous before? Or do you just not know what it is?

Of course I haven't. What have I to be jealous of? Honestly.

[He laughed, because really, Chloe. Him? Jealous? King of hell? Please. Though, her question did make him look back up at her.]

Why do you keep asking that?

That's what I'd like to know. You get everything you want. You shouldn't be jealous of anyone.

[ She came to a stop in front of him, one of her legs bumping against one of his. ]

Because I know what jealousy feels like and you reacted like a jealous person earlier.

[His hand was on his knee, close to her leg when she bumped it with hers, and he didn't even think about the fact that he leaned forward enough to close his fingers around her. Just a light touch, resting his hand on her more than holding her as he looked up.]

What have I to be jealous of?

[The way he asked it, the inflection in his voice made it sound as if he was genuinely asking her. He looked confused, uncertain for one of the few times in his long life, and it was all because of her.]

[ The touch, while surprising, didn't bother her. She had more than enough room to keep her distance if she wanted to avoid his hands and she'd moved closer to him.

She found herself looking down at him, meeting his eyes as she took in the look he was giving her. Confusion was rare for him and she found herself surprised once more as she shook her head slightly. ]

I don't know, Lucifer. You don't think I'm yours, do you?

N--

[It was on the tip of his head to say no, but then he took the time to actually think about it. Maze calling her his 'pet' detective, the way he felt when someone slighted her. His irritation at her ex and that surge of... well, he didn't know exactly what it was, but he'd wanted to cause Henry pain for daring to touch her.

Maybe it was more than his physical mortality that was changing. Why the hell wasn't Linda here?]

That's a silly question.

[Only because he didn't want to answer it.]

[ His answer, or lack of one, made her eyes widen as she stared at him. He could have given her a no, plain and simple, and she would've accepted it and let the conversation go. But his answer was a way to avoid the question, a step aside so he didn't have to lie about it. ]

If you can't answer it, I'm going to assume you do think that.

[ She looked surprised by it, not even able to reach a point of anger or frustration over it when it was so ridiculous.

He had no reason to think about her like that. As far as she could tell, he didn't think of anyone like that, save for Maze. ]

Since when do you care what I think?

[A valid point, and one he hoped might shift the conversation. His hand, however, was still on her leg, and his thumb brushed a slow circle against her skin.]

When it comes down to thinking I belong to you, I have to care. And it doesn't make any sense coming from you.

[ Her gaze remained fixed on him as she moved, shifting her other foot enough that both of her legs were meeting his - one on the outside of his leg while the other was between his. ]

You don't seem to think anything I do makes sense. How is this any different?

[She wasn't moving away and he found he liked that. He wanted to tug her closer, hell, to pull her onto his lap, but he never knew what to do with her. How to get her to do what he wanted, what she wanted but refused to admit.]

It's not. Most of what you do makes no sense to me at all. But even you have to admit it makes no sense. You sleep with half the women you come in contact with. You don't do relationships. So why would you think of me as yours? Or I guess the real question is why would you want me enough to get jealous?

[ Sliding down into his lap was tempting. Nudging her knees into the space on either side of his thighs and settling on him was something she considered for a few moments, a thought she wasn't planning to act on despite liking the hand resting on her leg and the closeness she'd initiated. ]

More than half.

[Said as a correction more than pride or gloating, his eyes flicking down over her, watching something in her own look that tempted him. He gave a testing tug on her leg, curious about whether he could change her mind or not.]

Does the why matter? I still don't know the whys of a lot of new changes, Detective. You made me bleed. That hasn't happened before. Can you tell me the why of that?

[ His correction earned a quiet snort, but no other response from her when it wasn't accompanied by one of his usual grins. Instead, she found herself moving closer with that tug, her leg bumping into the chair with the move forward. ]

The why always matters. If I could figure out why my shot hurt you and the other ones didn't, I would. Just like I'd figure out why you're acting like you're getting attached to me.

You make it seem like I'm a heartless villain.

[She moved forward and he felt that skip in his pulse. His other hand moved to set his glass on the side table, the hand on her leg tugging her a little closer, body shifting so that his lap was wide open as a place to continue this conversation.]

I do get attached to people, Chloe. My fondness for Delilah was what started this whole thing, yes? I'm not without feeling, thank you.

I don't think you're heartless. But I think your fondness for her was different from this.

[ Her eyes dropped to his lap as she felt him move, the tug leading her to rest her knee against the chair. It took a moment before she moved closer, her knee coming to rest beside his leg as she lifted her other leg to settle on his opposite side. She came to rest on his lap, her hands resting on the arms of the chair rather than on him. ]

[There was a sense of accomplishment when she'd settled on his lap, a smile lighting his features, his hand sliding up her leg to just around her thigh, holding her there.]

Of course it was. She used to work for me. You, on the other hand... your imperviousness to me makes you different by that alone, but if you think it's just that-- it's not. You're different. Much more interesting. It doesn't hurt that you're incredible in bed.

[ There was only so much she could give in to this time. Because, unlike the last time, she was still on the job. And he was distracting enough for her without sex involved. ]

Have you ever had romantic feelings for anybody, Lucifer?

I'm the devil, Detective. I do lust, not romance, though I can make a good wing of a wooing. Shall I woo you? That would be new. Roses and what, teddy bears? Or is that only for V-Day?

I don't want to be wooed by you, no.

[ She leaned forward, lifting her arms so she could drape them over his shoulders as she looked his face over, the look on her own more thoughtful than anything else. ]

I want to figure out why somebody who claims he just does lust gets jealous over one touch.

[She moved in closer, his hand lifting from where it was on the chair behind her to brush her hair back, much as Henry had done.]

Because he doesn't deserve to touch you. I would have thought that obvious.

Uh huh. And what if it wasn't him?

[ Even she could admit she preferred his touch doing the same thing, though she contributed that to Henry being a murderer. ]

What if it was someone I wanted to touch me. Are you telling me you wouldn't be jealous then?

[His hand paused where it was before he caught himself, though he didn't realize he was frowning. His fingers moved to her neck, tracing down along the side of it and remembering where he'd left his mark, a mark that had long since faded.]

Who do you want touching you? Don't tell me it's your weaselly ex. I would have thought that ship had sailed and you'd come to your senses.

[ She tilted her head slightly as she pulled one of her arms back, her hand settling against his cheek as she traced her thumb against the corner of his frown. ]

If I decided to see someone, I mean. Or would that bother you, too? Me dating someone.

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