Adela used the elevator more effortlessly now as she exited her room and went to the thirteenth floor.
In just a couple of days, she was getting used to this place.
What hadn’t changed, however, was her constant need to look over her shoulder.
She was never sure if she would get over the habit of worrying that someone was following her.
Her respite was just through the door.
Someone who made her feel safe even though she knew not to put all her hope into one person.
Who would have guessed that she would find this peace in the Devil?
As she pushed through, remembering him telling her the door would be open, she was shocked when her keen ears picked up the sound of a piano.
She walked deeper into the room, expecting a speaker to be playing, but was shocked when she saw Lucifer sitting at the grand piano.
The scene before her was serene.
He gently moved as he played a tune that spoke of time and painful memories.
There was a sweet undertone that turned bitter by the end.
As his right pointer finger lifted off the final key, he slouched slightly with a sigh.
His left hand reached towards the scotch that was on the coaster atop the piano.
“That was beautiful,” Adela complimented, finally making herself known.
But Lucifer was aware of all who entered his space.
Maybe he was showing off.
A faint smirk appeared on his lips before he took a sip of the alcohol.
“I was worried I was getting rusty,” he admitted, placing the glass back down.
“The last time I played was before you were born.” ‘ His fingers moved along the keys, playing a much less serious melody.
Adela felt daring.
“May I?” she asked.
His dark eyebrows rose, but when he saw her step forward, he scooted to the left, allowing her to sit beside him.
He was suddenly very aware of their shoulders touching.
It was his turn to be surprised as she started the beginning of “A Star Fell From Heaven”—at least the most basic version of this tune.
It was one of the first songs children learned while playing piano because it was widely known in Man’s World religions, particularly those that believed in Heaven and Hell as a place their people went for divine punishment or reward.
Adela knew her skills were basic, but soon Lucifer’s long fingers went to the keys.
Rather than overtaking the solid melody she knew, he added his own depth and twists to the song.
His hand bumping into hers caused her to gasp and miss a note at the tingle she felt upon contact, but he carried them out of it effortlessly.
It was almost as if the mistake was part of the song.
As the piece finished, she pulled her hands away slowly.
“You know that one,” she commented.
“It’s a little on the nose, don’t you think?” he asked.
She bit the inside of her lip, hiding a smile.
Of course, the song was about Lucifer falling to Hell after rebelling against the Angels.
Despite it being such a well-known song, it had some dark undertones, especially because the person it was about was sitting before her, completely flawless, unlike the way he was portrayed.
“It’s a little embarrassing I played anything in front of you, not knowing you’re an accomplished pianist,” she admitted.
“In thousands of years, I’ve learned a few things,” he admitted.
“I only learned harpsichord later in life.
Sometime in the 1520’s.
It evolved into the piano.” She rolled her eyes sarcastically, accepting her defeat as she stepped away from the piano.
“Would you like something to drink?
Scotch?” he asked.
“I’m a horrific host, and drinking in front of my guest.” Adela paused before she could make it to the couch.
There was no hiding her hesitation.
“I have bad memories associated with alcohol,” she admitted.
He didn’t need to ask more.
“Did you like the pomegranate juice sent to your room?” he asked.
He never made her embarrassment last too long.
She turned towards him.
“I did,” she responded.
“Then we will get that,” he assured her.
“Along with…” He gestured towards the couch.
She hadn’t even realized that flat trays had been placed on his coffee table, full of snacks that would be easy to eat while they read.
For the most part, it was charcuterie.
Whatever it was, it looked delicious.
Her heart thudded.
It looked romantic, but she wasn’t exactly an expert at that, so she ignored it.
“Thank you,” she responded, her voice full of disbelief.
“I feel so spoiled.” Lucifer smiled faintly as he left the piano and walked towards the bookshelves to find something that would entertain him.
Maybe he should lay off a bit, but whenever he did something unexpected, he noticed a faint blush on her pale cheeks.
It made him wonder how someone could ever harm someone so cute.
He found the book he was looking for quite easily and turned towards Adela.
“What would you like to read today?” he asked.
She looked to the side as she thought about it.
“Something lighthearted,” she responded.
“Maybe… a romance.” It wasn’t the first time she had sought such a novel.
If she couldn’t live out the dreams of a sweet romance herself, at least historical fiction could scratch that itch to a degree.
“I think I have just the thing,” Lucifer said.
He returned to his shelves, but he went closer to his desk, where more well-loved novels made their home.
In a short time, he found a worn novel that he handed off to Adela.
“Northanger Abbey by Jane Austen?” she asked.
“This book is so old, and you’re trusting me with it?” Obviously, there were plenty of Jane Austen books in print, but this wasn’t one of them.
This one looked like Austen herself had handed it off to Lucifer.
“I bought it when it was released,” he explained with a smile.
“She was a gifted storyteller and a little bit rebellious for her time, but I think you will find it easy to read.” “Thank you…” Adela said, slightly hesitant.
She gingerly took the book from his hands, shocked when she made it back to the couch and found a glimpse into Lucifer’s mind more than Jane Austen’s.
He had annotated the novel himself.
It was going to be more fun than expected.
Adela settled down on the couch and Lucifer did the same, with her on one wing and him on the other.
They both leaned into the corner and brought their legs onto the couch.
It really was going to be a relaxing day.
Occasionally, they would grab a tiny plate and a snack.
That was the only sound, other than pages turning, for a while.
Before she could get too far, Adela felt the pillows beside her shift as Lucifer scooted closer.
“This is what I wanted to show you,” he explained, having found the section of the book he wanted to read.
He lifted the book and showed an old painting.
She shouldn’t have been so surprised that he was in the painting, standing next to a harpsichord while someone played—the musician was wearing a white powdered wig, no less.
“You?” she asked in disbelief.
But admittedly, her focus wasn’t on the book as much as it was on his shoulder against hers.
She was feeling unbelievably shy.
This was unfamiliar territory for her.
He retreated, realizing he had gotten too close and didn’t want to frighten her.
No matter how he was feeling, he was practically as good as a stranger to her.
“It was me,” he confirmed quietly, forcing his thoughts elsewhere.
Lucifer settled back into the couch, and silence ensued for a while.
Adela didn’t know how to be subtle, so she decided to ask something that ate at her directly.
“Why did you move away?” she wondered.
Admittedly, she was feeling rejected by his retreat.