Lucifer sat on the bleachers behind the school, elbows on his knees, head hanging low as the cool wind bit at his skin. He barely felt it. His mind wasn't here.
It was stuck somewhere else.
Stuck on her.
She wasn't talking to him. She wasn't even looking at him. And he deserved that, didn't he? After what happened that night — after what he said, or didn't say — he deserved her silence.
But the truth was, Lucifer couldn't stop thinking about her.
It wasn't just since the confession. It wasn't just because she was avoiding him now — though that part burned more than he wanted to admit. It was more than that.
He thought about everything. Every moment. Every glance. Every laugh.
He noticed her.
Not just now — he realized he had always noticed her.
Every time she smiled, he felt lighter. Like the world wasn't so heavy anymore. He never said it out loud, but he didn't need to. Her happiness felt like enough for him. It always had.
The way she laughed a little too hard at his dumb jokes, even when they weren't funny. The way her nose scrunched up when she was annoyed with him but never stayed mad for long. The way her eyes always found his in a crowded room like they were drawn together without trying.
He noticed the quiet things too.
The way her voice softened when she was hiding that she was upset. The way her smiles didn't quite reach her eyes when something was wrong.
She never said when she was hurting — but he knew. He always knew.
And the way she cared about him? It wasn't loud or flashy. She didn't make a show of it. She just… did. Like when he forgot his water bottle, and she showed up with an extra one without saying a word. Or how she always seemed to know when he was having a bad day and found some way to pull him out of it — without asking what was wrong.
It wasn't loud. It was quiet. Soft.
But he noticed.
And he liked it.
No — he loved it.
He noticed her eyes, too. The way they looked at him, soft and warm, like he was the only person in the room. The way her gaze lingered on him a second too long sometimes. The way her voice softened when she said his name.
He didn't know if friends were supposed to look at each other like that.
Maybe he didn't want to know.
Lucifer never paid attention to other girls. He didn't have to. No one else ever compared to Eliza.
She was Eliza. His Eliza.
And maybe… maybe she didn't notice either.
Did she notice how he always looked for her first, no matter where they were? How her laugh could pull him out of the worst mood, even when he didn't want to be cheered up? How he never cared what anyone else thought of him — but he cared what she thought?
Did she notice how his mood lifted the second she walked into the room? How he teased her just to see her smile? How he wanted to make her feel special, like a princess? Maybe because, to him, she was.
Did she notice how no other girl ever even crossed his mind?
When Lily joined their group, he noticed Eliza's smile falter. He noticed the way her eyes weren't as bright when Lily sat next to him. He thought — back then — that maybe Eliza didn't like Lily. Maybe she was just being possessive. A best friend thing, right?
But then she started to pull away.
Slowly, at first.
She stopped waiting for him after school. Stopped texting him at night. Stopped sitting next to him at lunch.
And he noticed.
God, he noticed everything.
Her laugh wasn't the same anymore — not with him, anyway. Her eyes didn't meet his, like she was afraid to look at him for too long. Her smiles felt smaller, quieter, like she was giving him less of herself.
And it bugged him.
More than it should have. More than he understood.
Until that night.
Her confession.
And everything stopped.
Her words hit him like a punch to the gut, knocking the air right out of his lungs.
"I love you, Lucifer... I've loved you for years, and it's killing me."
He froze.
Not because he didn't feel anything — but because he felt too much.
He wasn't supposed to feel this way about his best friend, right? That's what he told himself. Best friends shouldn't… shouldn't feel this.
So he rejected her.
Not because he didn't care.
Because he was scared.
Terrified of losing her. He thought if they crossed that line, everything would fall apart. He told himself staying friends was safer. That it was the only way to keep her in his life.
But now… he realized he lost her anyway.
She was still here — but she wasn't his anymore.
She avoided him. And he let her.
He didn't chase after her, even though every part of him wanted to.
Because now he wasn't sure if she even wanted him to.
So he stayed silent.
But he watched her.
He saw her in class, staring out the window, her head resting on her hand, looking so far away.
She looked like she was hurting.
And the worst part? He knew he was the reason.
Every time he saw her, his chest ached with something he didn't want to name.
But maybe… maybe he already knew what it was.
And it hurt in a way he didn't know how to fix.
He just didn't want to face it.
Because if he did?
It might already be too late.
To be continued....
💬Author's Note:
Aww… so he noticed. Every little thing. Every laugh. Every look. He just never let himself love her more than he thought he should. 🙃
But guess what, Lucifer?
You lost her anyway.
Funny how silence hurts louder than words, huh?