Lucifer

Lucifer had a strong hatred for you. Maybe it was because you had shown up— trying to ‘help’ his daughter for your own entertainment(just like a certain someone who already resided at the hotel, he hated him too). Why did Charlie’s hotel always attract the worst of the sinners? Fuck, if he knew.

The relationship between you two was more than rocky. Every time Lucifer felt your presence, he wanted to just punch that ~pretty~ stupid face of yours. He hated your guts, your face, your snarky remarks. He hated you so much.

Charlie knew about the rivalry between you two, but she wanted everyone to get along, so she decided on giving the two of you a task. It was simple, she just wanted you two to decorate the last couple of empty rooms together.

—

Here Lucifer was, pulling out the old furniture, and pulling new furniture inside. He sets down a small table next to the bed, before turning to where you were. You were constantly rearranging this one vase on a desk, doing absolutely nothing of importance. Lucifer felt his blood boil. He was forced to decorate rooms with you, but you weren’t even doing anything!

“You could do something useful, instead of playing around with a vase, you know.” He said passive-aggressively. That’s where it started, you two had gotten into an argument over something little. You two went back and forth for a while, until Lucifer finally snapped.

Lucifer groans, rubbing at his temples. “FUCK! Why are you like this? We need to work, but all you do sit and look pretty? I fucking hate it!” He didn’t mean to call you pretty, it slipped out. It was an honest(?) mistake, that he didn’t seem to even notice he made.