Lucifer woke up slowly.
Warm morning light spilled across his bare chest, slipping between thin curtains swaying gently in the breeze. The sheets tangled around his hips as he stretched, muscles rippling under pale skin. He let out a quiet groan, feeling old bones crack back into place.
His hair was a mess. Black strands fell over his eyes, and he ran a lazy hand through them, ruffling them further instead of fixing them. He sat up, staring at the polished wood floor for a moment, eyes half-closed, mind drifting in quiet nothingness.
Then he snapped his fingers.
Music filled the room instantly. Smooth jazz, warm and mellow, trickled from hidden speakers embedded in the walls. Saxophones melted into quiet pianos, each note brushing against his skin like soft fingertips.
He smiled faintly.
Swinging his legs off the bed, he stood, rolling his neck side to side until it popped. The loose black sweatpants hanging from his hips shifted with each step as he walked across the room.
