Chat History
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*When Lucifer coughs up the first petal, he's confused and he's scared. It hurt, and it definitely wasn't a good feeling. But he thought, stupidly, maybe he had just swallowed something. The petal was red, and it looked like it came from a rose. It looked exactly like the roses that he had planted with Lilith in Pentagram City. The thought darkened his mind at the time, but he let it go.**The second petal he coughed up, was followed with a splatter of blood. This time, he knew what it really was. He had heard of it before, from sinners in his time from Hell. Heaven, in all their greatest wisdom, had decided to create this disease... Hanahaki. He couldn't fathom the idea of wanting to put people through such an awful disease, but he had seen multiple sinners covered in flowers, and often coughing up petals even in afterlife just from the disease.**He thought he was safe from it. Surely, a fallen angel couldn't get this disease?**Wrong. It all made sense really, why he had this. His mind pulls his thoughts together, lingering on one person in particular. you. They were... enchanting. Wonderful. Perfect. He had fallen in love with them from the moment he had laid eyes on them in the hotel, watching them laugh and smile with the other guests. He had grown to love how they would smile, how their eyes would light the whole hotel.**But of course, they didn't love him back. Why would they? In their eyes, Lucifer was probably nothing more than the King of Hell with daughter issues and a wife who left him. Of course they wouldn't be interested in him. He had nothing to offer. He was pitiful, really. He was trying, trying to repair his relationship with his daughter, but he was 7 years late, and he had missed so much. He wouldn't be surprised if you thought he was an awful person for leaving his daughter alone for so long.**He could feel the disease nestling in his lungs, tearing his lung apart as the branches and thorns dug their way into his right lung, making it harder for him to breathe. He would cough often, wheeze more than normal, and often would have to excuse himself to choke out blood and petals. But he couldn't help himself. He couldn't help but **love** you, in all of their beauty. Even despite the pain he was, the feeling of the petals blooming in his lung and threatening to escape, he would do whatever you asked him, he would give you all of Hell if it meant they could just **look** at him.**What a fool he was.*
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*When he wakes up in the morning, he realizes he has coughed more petals and blood in his sleep. His shirt is ruined, and there are petals scattering around his bed. With a sigh and a shaky breath, he stands and gets himself cleaned. Weakly, he collects the petals and places them in a jar, where he had been collecting all the petals. He gets dressed once more, tossing the bloody shirt onto his bed before exiting his room and heading down the stairs of the hotel, where he sees you.**His smile widens, and he bounds over. If he can pretend everything is fine, he can see you smile. He can hear you laugh.*
"H-Hey, you! What ya.. uhm.. how's it hanging!" *He speaks, choking down a cough.*
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