34. Maeve
34
MAEVE
“ M aeve, come on, it’s time to go!” Lucifer yells, banging on my door.
The sound is sharp and jarring, cutting through the layers of my already frayed nerves.
He will only do this once Ari’s left, too scared to upset the elephant shifter that I live with by acting like his chaotic self.
I yank the door open and glower at him. He steps back immediately, his chaotic energy dimming for a moment, like even he can sense I’m not in the mood for his games today.
He moves aside, letting me leave the room without us needing to touch, and I stalk through my flat to get to the kitchen.
He follows after me, and in the most annoying voice, he says, “You’re going to be late for work, pretty princess. You’re not even dressed.”
Luc’s normal teasing attitude grates on me even more than usual today. I don’t know why the fuck he thinks I’m in the mood for his patronising bullshit, but I’m not.
“Observant, aren’t you?” I snark. My chromius stirs inside me, coiling tighter, ignoring the world in the way only she can without facing any repercussions.
“Well, you’re wearing your pyjamas,” he says. “It’s hard to miss that.”
I roll my eyes, the weight of his presence starting to feel oppressive.
“It’s not like I invited you here to sit around and watch me have breakfast,” I mutter, and his face flashes in confusion.
I know I’m being a bitch, but today, it’s like I can’t stop myself.
Since the very first day on the job, Lucifer has had breakfast with Ari and I every day. He’s wormed his way into our morning routine, sitting at the table like he belongs, as if we’re some twisted, mentally-fucked up group.
It’s been normal. Ari’s even started cooking more to account for him and his savage ways so he doesn’t go hungry.
Today, I just can’t deal with it. Can’t deal with him. Can’t deal with life .
“You’re going to be late for work, pretty princess,” Lucifer says, almost softly, and the change in his tone is startling. I want to snap at him, tell him to shut up, tell him to go away… but I don’t have the kind of energy.
I sigh, my stomach clenching, my chromius whining as she makes my entire life harder. It’s like she’s picking up on my discomfort and amplifying it with her own selfishness.
I wish I could be honest with Lucifer. I wish I could tell him how much I’m struggling.
I wish I had someone who could understand, who I could trust to let in.
But they don’t, and I’m alone.
The truth stabs at me, twisting deeper than usual, in this funky mood of mine.
“I’m taking a sick day today.” My voice comes out hollow, the fight already gone from within me.
Lucifer’s eyes narrow, his concern easily seen. It’s there, just beneath his playful exterior, but I can’t deal with it.
“Are you even allowed one of those?” his tone is full of confusion and distrust.
I shrug. “Draven’s not here, and I’m not feeling like socialising. Report me to HR for all I care.”
The words come out sharper than I intended, and part of me wants to take them back. But I don’t. I can’t.
I’m done.
I reach down to my freezer, yanking it open. From the top drawer, I grab a tub of ice cream before shutting it again. I grab a spoon and turn back to my bedroom.
Lucifer says nothing, just watches me, his presence heavier than it’s ever felt before.
I’m done with today. Hell, I’m done with the whole damn month.
I slam the door behind me as tears well up in my eyes. I hate that they’re there, but I don’t have the strength to hold them back anymore.
This month is always rough.
I sink down onto the bed, my grip tightening on the ice cream tub, but I can’t even bring myself to open it with how sick I feel. The tears come faster now, silent but relentless, and for a moment, I wish I could disappear entirely.
How the fuck are you meant to cope when it’s your birthday month, and the day before your celebratory day is the anniversary of when everything shattered, including my mind?