Sparkle
I stare at the blank note on my phone. Things Lucien Likes This should not be hard.
He likes me. Obviously. He likes The Rot.
He likes teleporting. He likes annoying Lars and Ryan.
He likes calling me kitty cat. He likes pastries.
He likes showing off. He likes kissing me.
He likes magic. He likes following the Guide.
I flop backward onto my couch and nearly disappear into the mountain of decorative pillows. One lands over my face, and I leave it there for a moment while I think.
Lucien has spent weeks learning me. He knows I like purple ribbons in my tail. He knows I don’t have a huge sweet tooth. He knows I like being groomed and that I need time alone even when I want someone close. He took my ridiculous teenage Guide and treated it like sacred instructions.
Now it’s my turn, and I don’t know what the fuck I’m doing. I shove the pillow away and grab my phone again. Things Lucien Likes. The Rot. Being annoying. Teleporting. Threatening Papa. Fancy alcohol. I stare at the list.
“Oh, this is terrible.”
My apartment offers no advice. I could ask Lucien what he wants to do, but that defeats the whole point. I want to surprise him. I want to prove I’ve been paying attention too.
The problem is, I’m starting to think Lucien doesn’t know what he does for fun either.
Every time I ask about his life, somehow the answer circles back to work.
Tracking. The Rot. Suppliers. Employees.
Something that broke. Something he fixed.
Somewhere he had to go because another demon needed him.
It sounds uncomfortably familiar. I sit up.
Well. That’s annoying. I’ve spent most of my life defining myself by what I do for everyone else, and apparently I picked a demon who does the exact same shit. Different font. Same problem.
I open my messages and scroll until I find Ryan.
Sparkle: I need information.
He answers almost immediately.
Ryan: This sounds ominous.
Sparkle: What does Lucien do for fun?
The typing bubble appears. Disappears. Appears again.
Ryan: The Rot?
I groan.
Sparkle: NOT WORK.
Ryan: Oh.
A full minute passes.
Ryan: Annoy Lars?
Sparkle: That is also not a hobby.
Ryan: Lucien would disagree.
I roll my eyes and switch to Lars.
Sparkle: What does Lucien actually like doing when he’s not working?
His response takes longer.
Lars: Why?
Sparkle: I’m planning a date.
Three dots appear almost immediately.
Lars: Oh shit. Kitty’s really chasing back.
Heat creeps up my neck even though I’m alone.
Sparkle: Answer the question.
Lars: Honestly? Weird human shit.
I blink.
Sparkle: Define weird human shit.
This time, he calls. I answer and immediately hold the phone away from my ear when he laughs.
“This is adorable,” he says.
“Lars.”
“Fine, fine.” His voice still carries a smile, but he settles down. “Lucien loves weird human stuff. Roadside attractions. Strange museums. Themed restaurants. Anything humans built because somebody had a weird idea and enough money to make it real.”
I sit straighter. “Really?”
“Oh yeah. Years ago, he dragged Ryan and me three states over because he heard about a giant fiberglass chicken.”
“A fiberglass chicken?”
“Huge fucking thing. Lucien thought it was incredible. Even in the dark at night because of Ryan.”
I start laughing. Of course he did.
“Does he do that a lot?”
“All the time. Still does, when he remembers to take a day off. He has a cabinet in his place full of garbage from tourist traps.”
“Garbage?”
“Souvenirs. Shot glasses, magnets, weird little figurines. He has a spoon from someplace shaped like a shoe.”
My smile grows as I picture Lucien carefully adding a novelty spoon to a collection. That sounds exactly like him.
“Why does he like that stuff so much?”
Lars goes quiet for a second. “I don’t know if he’s ever said.”
I curl my legs beneath me and wait.
“Maybe because it’s pointless,” Lars says finally.
“What do you mean?”
“Most of Lucien’s old life had a purpose. Track this person. Find that soul. Do whatever the higher higher demons wanted. Then he comes here and humans are building giant dinosaurs beside highways because they thought it would be funny.”
Something in my chest shifts. I look around my apartment.
The pink chair doesn’t need to be practical.
Neither do the twelve pillows on the couch.
My glitter wall serves absolutely no purpose other than making me happy when sunlight hits it.
Lucien looked at that wall after we finished it and smiled like we’d created a masterpiece.
Maybe Lars is right.
Maybe Lucien loves things people make simply because they wanted them to exist.
“I think I know what I’m doing.”
Lars laughs. “Have fun.”
I hang up and immediately start searching.
There are so many options. A museum dedicated to ventriloquist dummies.
Absolutely not. I’m trying to romance the demon, not give myself nightmares.
A giant ball of twine. Interesting, but honestly too close to a cat going someplace there’s a toy just for him.
A museum filled with tiny versions of famous buildings.
Better. A massive pink elephant outside a liquor store.
Then I find it.
There’s a rock shop. A real mosasaurus skull. Fossils. Weird souvenirs. Something called a Mystery House that apparently messes with gravity.
Oh, Lucien is going to lose his fucking mind.
I sit cross-legged on the couch for nearly an hour researching. Distance barely matters because Lucien can teleport us anywhere, as long as I give him somewhere to aim for. That feels slightly like cheating, but I decide it doesn’t count because I’m the one planning everything. He deserves this.
Lucien has spent so much time trying to get my dates right, even when they’ve gone spectacularly, wonderfully wrong. I didn’t understand why at first. I thought he was being dramatic because Lucien is dramatic about almost everything.
Now I get it. You want the person you like to light up because of something you did. I want that. I want to see Lucien’s face when he realizes the date is for him. Not for the Guide. Not because it’s what I think romance is supposed to look like. For Lucien.
My phone buzzes.
Lucien: Have you figured out how you’re wooing me yet?
I stare suspiciously at the message.
Sparkle: Who told you I was planning?
Lucien: Nobody. I assumed you’ve been thinking about me constantly.
I snort.
Sparkle: Your ego is showing.
Lucien: Is that a yes?
Sparkle: Be at my apartment tomorrow at ten am.
The typing bubble appears immediately.
Lucien: Where are we going?
Sparkle: Surprise.
Lucien: Cruel.
I put my phone down before he can drag more information out of me.