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And I admit that I...
The avatar of pride found himself at a loss. A loss of words. A loss of emotions. A loss of himself. A loss of you. He lay there, helplessly staring at the stacks of work presented in front of him messily. Everything was scattered around, books in random corners or wedged between sofa cushioning. Other sheets or bits and bobs were left, lying around, to collect dust in his study. He can't remember the last time he had been anywhere but within the walls if his home or RAD.
Sometimes.
Sighing, he pushed himself away from his desk lazily, taking large but drowsy steps towards his study's door. Taking his coat down from the rack almost robotically, emotionlessly, Lucifer turned on his heel and placed down the corridor, and just like that he was out the common room and out the front door with a loud SLAM. His thoughts were plagued with the thought, the idea, the craving, the love he had for you.
Maybe.
He was in a rush, knowing exactly where his end destination was. But first, a stop was needed. The florists. You had always loved flowers, he thought, as he a chose bouquet of exquisite yet simple flowers out from the stand, hastily handing the worker the money before swiftly exiting. Pacing, almost storming down the road, he held the flowers close to his heart in one hand, his other holding his jacket over his shoulder, securing it in an effort to keep it on despite the heavy winds and rain. But he tried even harder to ensure that the flowers weren't crushed or ruined. They were for you, afterall.
Might.
As he stormed down the high street, ignoring any lingering gazes from people in shop windows, he felt at an ease. He felt comforted, in a way, being surrounded by some of the very stores you had adored. The jewelry shop was a favourite of yours, he bought you a new piece at least once a month. Maybe he should pick you up another piece today? But alas, during his battle against the wind he decided against it, fighting forwards against the bullets hitting his skin, going at hundreds of miles an hour: at least that's how it seemed.
Think about you at night,
well almost,
every night....
Silence was all he was met with as his walking slowed, heart beat quicker, nearing you. You were waiting for him at the place you two now always met up at, thrice a week at the bare minimum. He hoped he didn't seem to clingy. But he also hoped he did, because ultimately, it showed how much he loved you, right?
And even though I try to hide,
the pain,
and erase you from my mind
Gulping, he stood at the entrance. staring dead at you. You looked particularly peaceful today, almost at ease. It made him smile admist the tears weeping in his eyes, his grip loosening on both the flowers and his coat, as he slowly gave up fighting against the brute force of nature. Maybe nature was trying to drive him from you, he thought as he neared you in small steps, but he wouldn't allow it. He had to see you.
I know I'm dying..
To find a lookalike.
He loomed over you now, tears streaming down his face silently, mingling with the wind and drops falling upon him freely. Lucifer still vividly remembers how your face looked as the live drained from it, and he still remembers how you looked in your casket, and he has to admit: death was not your colour. You had looked so much better full of life, with your eyes full of joy, eyes filled with that sparkle whenever you gave him his morning coffee, awaiting your forehead kiss eagerly in return. "You deserved so much better in life, my love.." he spoke aloud as he lowered the flowers onto your gravestone, complimenting the bundle from just the other day. He hoped that wherever your soul lied now, you were happy and full of colour again, with the same sparkle in your eye and happiness in your heart. As much as it broke him, he knew he would have to let you go at somepoint, and find that lookalike.
