submeme | Picture Prompt Meme

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.

Don't be ridiculous. Why would it bother me?

[And yet... that frown wasn't going anywhere. He thought about her and her ex, the crease deepening as the hand at her thigh gripped a little tighter.]

You're frowning a lot over something you're calling ridiculous.

[ Her thumb traced away from his mouth, eyes still fixed on his face as she felt his grip tighten. ]

What are you thinking about?

[When she mentioned it, he blinked himself free of his thoughts, smoothing his features into something a little less... displeased. He gave her a small smile, thumb moving to her jaw, sliding over it to her chin.]

Doesn't matter, does it? Are you interested in someone touching you, Detective? I haven't heard you mention anyone.

That doesn't matter either. I want to know why thinking about someone else touching me at all bothers you so much.

[ No way she was admitting that the only person she'd thought about touching her recently was him, though it seemed obvious enough with their position. ]

I--

[The words stuck, his eyes lifting from where his thumb was tracing up to her eyes, confusion flickering in them for a moment.]

I don't really know why. It does, though. Why do you suppose that is?

[ There it was, the confusion again, though only for a second. As hard as it was to believe, she was beginning to think he honestly had no idea what jealousy felt like.

Her hand slipped away from his face so she could let her arm slide over his shoulder again. ]

It's called jealousy, Lucifer. I can't tell you why you're feeling it.

Nonsense. I don't get jealous. I cause jealousy, but I don't feel it. Feelings are for mortals.

[And yet... here he was, with her on his lap and feeling like if Henry lay a finger on her again, he'd rip it off and-- well. He'd do things that he'd best not get caught doing while he was on earth instead of back home.]

You keep saying that, but you can't see the way you react.

You really don't think you'll get jealous if I go back over there tonight? To apologize for how possessive my husband is and ask if he'd like to have a drink together?

[The grip on her thigh tightened, his eyes narrowing. Then he realized she was playing with him -- or he thought she was, and he relaxed.]

Funny, Detective, but I doubt those morals of yours would allow you to let one of your suspects get his hands all over you, even if only to rub it in my face. You want me, denial or not, and that took serious persuasion on my part. If you went over, it would only be to... what, test me? Do you really want to hinge your case on whether or not I'm susceptible to human emotions?

[ That grip tightened again and she nearly pulled an arm back to grab his wrist, only stopping herself when he relaxed again. ]

I didn't say anything about letting him get his hands all over me. I could just go over there to talk to him. To tell him about you. How much control you insist on having, how you work such long hours, how you get me expensive gifts to make up for how little time we spend together. That I suspect you're sleeping with some woman in your office and that's why you work into the night sometimes.

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