But no — I still think you’re shyer.” With that, Michael swung back onto his feet and waltzed over to his kitchen once more. “Didn’t I tell you we have to do something about that?” Lucifer planted an elbow on the table, so that he could hold his cheek against his palm, and found himself equally amused and nervous — his ankles crossing to keep himself in place. “But what if I enjoy being so timid and so humble?” What if Lucifer enjoyed hating himself?
Real af
