[ @cxffexngel || Sandy tries less than a glass and wishes to never do that ever again dsFÑKDSFDF ]

‘’ I don’t get it… ‘’ it was the woes of the current supreme primarch as he could barely feel his throat. The burn of alcohol much too great and uncomfortable compared to the pleasant one of freshly brewed coffee. Sandalphon was unsure how he got roped this time to try the alcoholic drink after many times refusing - even after that time that one draph woman had the audacity to pour a whole bottle of that into his coffee back at the stall he once set at that one campsite some months ago. It was disgusting, too strong, sour and simply not even something he finds the so mentioned ‘joy’ of drinking at it. It made him feel heavy, dizzy and simply miserable - which he accentuates with a drawn out groan exhaled as he slumps into the table in front him, cheek flushed into the welcome of cold wood and hands at each side of his form. ‘’ What’s even the point of this drink, the culture around it if there’s not even an ounce of ‘happiness’ this even brings? Truly, I don’t get mortals sometimes. ‘’ yet what he fails to admit the entire time is about how all he’s done is drink not even half the glass he had been offered by none more than Eugen himself, the old skyfarer plenty of times having tried to offer the archangel drinks, to party and drag him as if Sandalphon was a junior under his wing rather the multimilenia primal beast, that will even outlive the old man at any point given - but he couldn’t complain, no. Not even when the four primarch themselves also, while now respecting him given his role he didn’t ask for but has worn with pride , there’s still that familiarity and almost friendliness they thread around him. Uriel almost like an older brother when they cross paths, to Michael’s understanding and lending each other an ear over regrets and guilts that hang over the two, to Gabriel almost terribly dotting nature and sometimes scary way  that she’s, out all the four, the most blended with skydweller culture than he’d be able to. And Raphael that stands by, but always offer the best advice when the winds blow in his direction. And oh how much of a fool he was, as he had singlehandedly seen Gabriel and Europa that time also delight themselves with drinks too while he was just perplexed at the crime happening before his eyes without a power to stop it. ‘’ Maybe I just wasn’t cut for this… Lucifer, what do I do with the glass? I could sneak and throw the rest into the sink but that’d defeat the purpose of a gift despise how… unfitting it is to my tastes. And the pile that the mortal has been piling for me and this ‘enlightenment’ I see nowhere despise my attempts. ‘’ And if he was going to be utterly honest, Sandalphon definitely wanted to just burn them all and just lie that he had drink them without trouble - but knew that he was much of a bad liar and it’d be found out easily even if he left no evidence of the matter due to how easy it’d be to spot the fallacies of his claims. Maybe, just maybe Lucifer would have an answer to his pleas; so a tired sharp, crimson eye perks a bit from the collapsed from of the archangel and oh; was that a frown on Lucifer there? ‘’ … Lucifer? ‘’

A sympathetic frown creases Lucifer's delicate lips as he listens to Sandalphon lament, and then watches the other melt against the table. The archangel has barely made a dent in the drink Eugen had given him, but Lucifer, though not quite as vocal about it as Sandalphon, can understand the other's woes. He finds the taste of alcohol rather detestable, and tends to turn it down or avoid it whenever it's offered to him. Though, unlike poor Sandalphon who got roped into trying it in the middle of a party, the first time he had tried was with Gabriel on an outing some time ago--she had claimed the drinks were delicious, and the flavor might even inspire him to conjure up a new type of coffee. Needless to say, he eagerly agreed to join her, and was sorely disappointed with the results. At first he had simply believed that his tastebuds weren't made to stomach such a thing--after all, the genetic make-up of primals and humans differed, but, ah, well, he had watched Gabriel easily chug down several glasses without batting an eye so that theory had been thoroughly debunked. Perhaps this aversion to alcohol was limited to just himself and Sandalphon for some reason, but he shakes his head. He would need more evidence to back up that claim, so he turns his attention back to the ailing archangel. "Perhaps some mortal customs are simply beyond our comprehension," he adds softly, not wishing to speak too loudly when he knows the effects that drink can have one. "There is no need to push yourself to take part in all of them." Usually Lucifer is eager to try new things, and learn more about humans and their lives--his response to the whole ordeal makes it abundantly clear he enjoys alcohol about as much as Sandalphon does--which is, not at all.

His frown deepens just a tad at the question. Ah, it would be a bit rude to throw the glass away as it was a gift. But he doesn't wish for Sandalphon to torture himself further by forcing himself to drink more of it. His eyes drift over to the glass--watching as the liquid inside sways back and forth, almost like a monster circling its prey. It's only when Sandalphon calls his name that he realizes just how long he had been staring at it. With a soft sigh, he reaches out to gingerly push the other's messy bangs away from his eyes--his skin is warm to the touch, and there's a slight flush painting his features. And it makes his heart ache for the other. Slowly, he runs his hand through the Supreme Primarch's messy hair, and leans down to place a soft kiss upon the freshly exposed skin. "It will be all right, Sandalphon, I will take care of it. Just take it easy," he reassures despite how his nose twitches ever so slightly at the pungent aroma wafting up from the glass. Truly, he's impressed Gabriel can tolerate the taste so well, perhaps there's some sort of trick to it he's yet to learn or master. But, ah, for now, he simply has no choice but to fall on the sword for Sandalphon.  

Pulling away, he now comes face to face with the daunting task ahead. Inhaling deeply through his nose, he prepares himself before picking up the glass, and painstakingly drinking what remains. Though his expression remains stalwart, he can feel his throat burning, and the corner of his eyes threaten to water, but he somehow manages to get it down without coughing on it. And he quietly places the empty cup back onto the table--without saying a word. He seems unnaturally quiet and stiff.

[ @cxffexngel​ || a follow up from christmas thread! ]

   Sunlight licks at aurburn strands that almost sparkle gold even though the angel, in a heap of messy sheets that need serious tidying up - something a sandalphon who hadn’t done…. what beautiful thing the night behind them had been, would be the first thing up his mind. But even now the grogginess of the night before hangs over the crowed supreme primarch, in the same way completely messy wings of white all but also help covering the state of undress Sandalphon now, slowly, realizes he still is in. A breathy sound escapes his lips as heavy eyelids try focusing a bit more around his surroundings, but it takes a good minutes between thinking of nothing after a dreamless and deep, revitalizing sleep and formulate many ways to slip away from Lucifer’s tangled limbs all around his frame (not that his own arms wrapped around the other’s waist and legs just as tangled with Lucifer’s helped at all with his situation.) safely without disturbing the other.    Hopeless as it is, and sleep kissed as the primarch is, Sandalphon can’t begin to find the less risky way - not that it mattered much; it still is a blessed and beautiful sight to witness the former supreme primarch how he is able to right now, curtains of white lashes hiding away those sky blue eyes, the quiet sound of his breathing against his own, as chest rises and falls so close to his - this feeling all the more felt with the lack of layers that would dull a bit how skin graces one another, how Lucifer’s warmth mixed with his, and at times, Sandalphon liked to think that there was entirely no difference on where Lucifer starts, and where it ends with his own. It paints a small, sleepy smile upon war-torn features, and adds to the pile of options of why he should stay a little bit longer next to the other’s sleeping frame, and bask in the silence and peace as the airship made it’s endless way upon vast skies. Wooden and steel faintly creaking as wind caresses the outside of the room, and the cold of the night slowly banishes to give way to the sun’s welcome.    Sandalphon doesn’t dare count the seconds, or minutes when time sometimes seemed both short and far too long to really give it measure, but after a while, he finally tries his best to slip away from the bed, replacing his form with the largest, available pillow for Lucifer to keep straddling while it lasts, knowing how easy it’d be for the Primarch to wake upon feeling the other’s absence, something that warmed Sandalphon’s wounded core enough to forget the hurt more than he likes to admit, and something that also embarrassingly applied to himself, especially in days where the shadow of doubts decided to reminds him anxieties that often made this reality far too great to believe in it. Something Lucifer has become better at noticing, and a complete menace into reminding the primarch that he’s here, and he plans on staying for as long as eternity allows them to. Bare feet, the chill of the floor instantly makes Sandalphon wiggle his nose in distaste, but he bears it to get used to the feeling as he rises, and with a smaller blanket draped over his waist to cover up enough he searches for something - a little gift box that had been loosely covered by a heap of papers and a book atop it to make it’s form as subtle as if nothing had been moved at all from the room. Taking it with his hands after applying some magic to clean better what last night’s activities had leave them a bit sticky, to not need and wash them in his current state witch absolutely would bring questions to whoever locked eyes with him. It’s tiny, cream colored with a brown ribbon keeping the box together, and a gold little feather drawn on one of the corners of the top. With it secured on one hand, the archangel approaches the bed until he takes a seat over the edge, and with his free hand reach over, as carefully as possible, to push a few white strands of hair away from the other’s forehead and reveal those closed eyes while Sandalpon softly sighs fondly over the other’s slumber. ‘’ I… Apologize if this disrupts your sleep, but at some point you need breakfast, Lucifer. ‘’ His voice no more than a quiet sigh, a complete contrast to how once he had been the very one to threaten the skies and bring doom. ‘’ Also, there’s something I wished you to have, but we got quite sidetracked yesterday - not that I regret any of it. ‘’ Oh he’d absolutely never regret that, not ever in thousand years. It had been wonderful, a dream he’s always fantasied about, something he never though possible nor close and worthy to have, and yet… ‘’ Take your time. ‘’

   A muffled whine escapes Lucifer’s rosy lips when he feels the familiar and comforting warmth that had been pressed against his chest vanish, or rather, feels it twist into something a tad bit more lifeless and cold. Instinctively, his arms grip the pillow Sandalphon had slipped into his arms a bit tighter, but feeling the soft, cushiony material give within his hold is more than enough to make the former Supreme Primarch frown in displeasure despite the fact that he’s still clearly asleep. Uselessly, his legs tug the discarded sheets closer, as if he’ll uncover buried treasure if he simply rolls about long enough. But there’s nothing there. His legs don’t ghost over anything warm or lively, instead they just get tangled up in the already impressive mess of blankets tucked all around him. His wings follow suit, lifting and then collapsing back down into the now empty space–as if searching helplessly for something that should be there, but isn’t. With a soft groan, he nuzzles into the cotton pillow case, smothering his face against its soft surface, and fussing up strands of pearly, white hair that’s typically so neat and well-kept. At the moment; however, it’s not dissimilar to Sandalphon’s–shorter strands sticking up haphazardly, and longer ones curling up at the edges. The severity made all the worse the more he desperately attempts to clutch at the pillow in his budding, but sleepy disappointment because something about it doesn’t feel quite right, but his hazy and dazed mind can’t, exactly, figure out what’s wrong.

   It really only manages to click in his sleep-logged mind when he feels the gentle brush of fingers against his forehead. “Mmmm, Sandalphon,” he lazily yawns as he holds the pillow much too tightly, and nuzzles even closer to it (perhaps Sandalphon just narrowly manage to escape being hugged into a thousand pieces by waking up first). It only takes him a few more minutes and a few squeezes of his fingers against the fabric for him to realize the archangel wouldn’t be so soft and malleable. Slowly, long lashes lift to reveal sleep-dazed blue eyes that stare at the blurry mixture of colors swirling together before his eyes. Blinking a few watery, sleepy tears back, he finally manages to focus on the pillow held in his arms, and then on Sandalphon where he’s now sat at the edge of the bed. For a fleeting moment, a frown scars as his otherwise immaculate features, as if he feels betrayed by the pillow itself instead of the person who actually put it there in the first place. Carefully, Lucifer unwraps his arms from around the poor, sorely abused pillow and peers up at Sandalphon through dewy lashes and messy bangs. Positioning his arms on top of the pillow as he begins to the painful process of waking up, it takes him a few minutes to actually register that Sandalphon is saying words, and he can’t simply just lay there and admire his voice without saying anything at all, as tempting as doing so would be right now. For someone who had never required sleep in order to function before his current body, Lucifer, surprisingly given how stern and business-like he had once been, always had trouble waking up in the morning. It helps precious little that last night still feels a bit like a dream; an impossible wish that left his core feeling terribly light and warm and enamored. Though, even in his current, and very groggy, state of mind he’s well aware it had been reality.

  “Do I?” he asks, his voice still a bit hoarse and sluggish. “Perhaps I could be convinced with a kiss.” Even first thing in the morning he somehow has the utter audacity to make such heartfelt requests. Though, mercifully, his attention does manage to redirect slightly as Sandalphon continues speaking. Ah, yes, that’s right–he’d almost forgotten what day it was. Compared to everything that had happened, the holiday felt like a distant thought in his mind. Leisurely, he retracts his wings to make more space as he slowly sits up–completely ignoring the fact that he’s entirely bare still, and heedless of how the sheets all tumble down his shoulders to gather at his waist with the motion. “Yes, I remember now…” he mumbles softly, mostly to himself, but loud enough for Sandalphon to hear. The archangel had mentioned something about a gift last night, but last night itself had been such a grand gift that he couldn’t imagine or even fathom something more. “So it seems we did, but getting sidetracked was the greatest gift of all.” A gentle smile spills onto his lips as he finally begins to wake up, and break free from the clutches of sleep. The corners of his lips curl upwards even more as he reaches out to find Sandalphon’s hands so he can place his own over them. “I’m afraid if I were to take my time I would simply remain here with you, like this, all day.” Even he’s aware that’s not exactly practical–not to mention the mess, but he’s ignoring that aspect of his current situation rather well. “But I am awake now, so whenever you are ready. I am certain you could use breakfast as well. However…” He lifts his hands from the other’s knuckles just to gingerly card his fingers through those messy auburn locks, and to softly caress the archangel’s jaw, as if carefully making sure nothing was out of place, and that Sandalphon seemed perfectly fine. Ah, he’s still largely unfamiliar with the more physical aspects of his feelings, and a part of him simply never stops worrying. It’s in his nature. In his desire to see the other safe and happy. “Are you feeling all right, Sandalphon?” 

@the-sxrpent​: 

"Lu-ci-fer.." he was wearing a pumpkin on his head with a angry face on it but his outfit can be considered revealing with his wings out since thankfully it's that time of the year wondering if he knew about Halloween or at least heard of it.

"Why aren't you ready for spooky season?" He was pouting behind the mask if he can tell, after all he did he wanted to hang out with him.

                                                        ★ ☆ ✮ ✯ ―☼ ― ★ ☆ ✮ ✯

   Fair brows crinkle in vivid confusion as his gaze meets with the hollowed out eyes of a dreadfully angry pumpkin instead of the blazing crimson of the fallen angel he had been expecting from the voice that had called out to him. Though, upon closer inspection - by leaning in a bit to actually examine the pumpkin head greeting him - his expression softens a tad when he can, in fact, spot a shimmer of scarlet through the shadows cast from the holes. Not to mention the fact that the outfit was clearly Belial's style, though Lucifer still, utterly, fails to understand how wearing something so terribly revealing could possibly be an asset to the other. With the weather getting colder by the day, and the enemies they face striking at random, he can't grasp how walking about with even less clothing than usual was of any benefit. Though, truthfully, he had stopped questioning Belial's strange taste in clothing some time ago. At least out loud, that was.

   "Good evening, Belial," he finally returns after a few moments of prolonged silence thanks to him awkwardly analyzing the other's attire, though his lips do tug into a gentle smile. "I am glad to see you appear to be doing well." Or well, he seems to be, it's not exactly easy to tell when he can scarcely see the other's face. "Though I must admit I did not expect to see you dressed in such manner. I had assumed pumpkins were only for craving, painting, and eating - I was not aware one could wear them as well. It appears they truly are a diverse species that are capable of many feats." Ah, there's that researcher soul embedded deeply into his core coming to light once more.

    Though it does waiver when the other questions him. With a slight tilt of his head Lucifer allows his gaze to dance about the ship, spotting the various decorations already settled into their proper place. "Spooky season?" He hums the words as he mulls them over before he connects the dots. "Ah, I see, you are referring to Halloween. I first experienced last year, and rather enjoyed it. However, I was not aware I should be preparing for it now." He lifts his hand up to his chin in thought. "I see, so I was mistaken. Halloween is not just a single day of the Skydweller year, but rather a part of this much larger 'spooky season' you mentioned."

    His hand falls back down to his side. "Forgive me, Belial, it seems I still have much to learn about Skydweller traditions. Perhaps you would be willing to help me acquire an outfit this this year?" Last year he had aid as well, though he must admit he had found the outfit chosen for him at the time much to grand and noble for someone like himself, even if he had wished to embody the meaning of being a knight for just the short time he had spent in that gleaming armor.

[ @cxffexngel || Lucifer shall have one (1) angel who can't stop being heart eyes at him! ]

The cafe had a short time open, and the last customers had already left the grandcypher's homely room the current supreme primarch had dedicated for this alone, leaving him and Lucifer at the gentle silence only adorned by the creak of wood whenever wind hits the massive airship at odd angles - it's sown nothing but a mute howl that mostly wen't unnoticed by now. Apron left upon a hanger and most plates cleaned already besides the last ones left, and the primarch truly would go and finish scrubbing clean those last cups, but it felt, suddenly, a terribly taxing task. One he could ignore for now when all his tired gaze could pour attention at was at the gentle trail beautiful and graceful fingers trace against worn paper of lent books Lucifer quite often is found consuming. His usual pair of aurburn wings spread behind them, one sprawled across the low antique looking sofa until the tips fall, caressing worn flooring while the other served as a blanket and pillow for the taller angel's back as he read aloud for Sandalphon - and most of it's contents perfectly flying over the primarch's head beyond the admiration that oozes from his core at the beautiful ring Lucifer's voice always had whenever certain things picked his interest, and needed badly to share with him such findings - even at the cost of Sandalphon not remembering half of it until he's neck deep re-reading by himself so the guilt doesn't eat too hard his shadow. " hmh... " Hums, lowly in a purr as a brow rises with more interest at the words that blur into nothing more than indescribable doodles like Vyrn's attempts at writing despise his rather awkward paw like limbs not helping the poor small dragon into holding a quill properly. Even when he felt perfectly awake and with energy that could last various missions before needing to finally collapse into his creaky bed, it's as if simply taking solace upon Lucifer's side, leaning his chin into the soft of the other's pale exposed skin of his shoulder all but depleted all that bristling energy into nothing more than a weak ember - and not in a bad way. Heavens no. It felt more like what that one skyfarer who surrounds himself in cats pictured more like - as the cats sometimes wander into his room and somehow the best resting spot, despise the many better candidates Sandalphon could perfectly number out aloud to their tiny fuzzy little heads to remember, yet choose to conveniently feign ignorance, were the inside of his hood, or atop his chest were he be unlucky enough that the largest one of those felines caught him laying down looking at the ceiling for hours. With little respect stepping on his form until they lay all that fuzzy weight into a perfect sphere of hair and whiskers as if he were some kind of luxury bed just for cats. Yes, that's more how it felt whenever he had those moments where he could simply be held by Lucifer, in any way.

And the more Lucifer goes on and on, explaining him the contents of a book that by now Sandalphon has forgot even what was it about, his lashes fall a bit to half mast, blinking slowly while muscles that spend most of the day ready for any danger simply melt the more time passes at the dim yellow light of a gentle flower shaped lamp that helped the other see better when the sunlight wasn't enough. It doesn't register to the crowned primarch that his free wing shuffles so it rests upon his lap, covering his hand that laid upon his thigh a bit or that the hold he had with the other one upon Lucifer's arm lessened it's hold, until it's nothing but a fleeting thing. Truly, he felt blessed any chance he had to simply be like this with the other, thankful that Lucifer never once pushes away unlike the many times he's the one to hesitate whenever the other tried to close their distance, afraid of hurting or be hurt even when the logical part of him knew more than anything, that Lucifer would never think ill of him after all he's done. It's a hard habit to shed, and it'd stick with him, he knows. So he immensely appreciates the patience the other simply never lacked, his core always twisting awkwardly when Lucifer would have these faces of worry even when he discovered, finally of Sandalphon's airsickness he failed to tell. But ah - Sandalphon squeezes his eyes shut a bit and stops his mind from wandering too far, before any guilt rises from thin air just because, and tries concentrating on the other, let his voice ground his soul back to where they spend the rest of the day; whatever the book is about, again. Plants? Another of those terribly dramatic multi volume novellas? Cultural research? Or perhaps another tourism booklet other crewmember picked up and left in the cafe's stash one could pick and leave books and what nots? " 'm paying attention... " Awkwardly says, slurry and lazily to himself but by the little distance he has from Lucifer's ear hidden by the veil of beautiful snowy locks, it's terribly apparent the other might have picked on his own slip. Embarrassment rising terribly easy, and no soothing tiredness from being comfortable could match the way bashfulness plagues his body. " s-sorry, Lucifer. I — kind of spaced out..." But at least he's honest, even when truths like these, harmless and the ones that brought a fond smile to the taller primarch, shattered instead Sandalphon's pride because he was too caught trying to concentrate, and yet ending up doing the exact opposite when it was such an easy concept and act.

Lithe fingers trace over the faded text sprawled across the crinkled pages of the tome cradled easily within his hand. His eyes fixed on each line he says, softly, out loud in the quiet of the cafe. Well after closing hours for the day, the typical hustle and bustle of the small coffee shop aboard the Grandcypher is gone. The tables have been cleaned off, and supplies put away, though the pleasant aroma of coffee still lingers in the air - he can taste it in his lungs whenever he inhales gently against the auburn licks tickling his skin. The warm of Sandalphon's head upon his shoulder, and his body curled up against his side has become a familiar one to him now, but it's not something he would ever grow tired of. No, instead, he adores these quiet moments between them where he can simply be in the other's presence, and enjoy the time they have to spend together. Centuries ago, he had dreamed of sharing such mundane nights with the archangel, but that's all they had been at the time - dreams; faraway ones that seemed impossibly out of reach. And, now that those dreams have come true, they feel every bit as mystical and magical as he had always imagined they might. Even the soft thump of the Supreme Primarch's core and the tepid caress of his breath upon his neck is something Lucifer has come to cherish deeply. If given the chance, he would have easily spent years sitting like this on the couch in the cafe, enjoying the bitter, yet rich taste of coffee that was still present in his throat, and basking in the comfort of Sandalphon's existence as he flipped through a rather old book about plants. It was one he had jumped on the chance to purchase when the Harvin merchant had paid them a visit - an ancient piece full of countless memories for him that he was rather surprised to see. While, at the time, it had been one of the newest books in Lucilius's impressive collection, now it was one of the oldest book he's seen a Skydweller possess. Of course, it wasn't the copy his creator had kept, but it was similar, and the wave of nostalgia that hit him when he had spotted it had made him want to read it despite the fact that he had memorized its contents long ago. To most others, it was likely rather dry - full of basic and medical information about various flowers, many of which were difficult to find now, but Lucifer had always found it utterly fascinating.

And, so, he's perhaps so caught up in its contents that he scarcely realizes how dull it might have been to listen to. Even when that purr rumbles deep in Sandalphon's throat, he can only lean his head down to gently nuzzle into the other's hair to comfort him. A smile plastered across his smooth lips and radiant features as he continues trudging forward through the text without hesitation. But he is aware that the weight he feels against his side presses just a tad bit more into him as the archangel leans more heavily upon him. And he notices, too, when that wing comes up to drape over his lap rather sluggishly, and how the other's hand seems to slowly loose its strength until the hold Sandalphon had upon his arm is almost entirely gone. His expression softens, and he leans the book down against the table beside the lamp so he can free up his hand to gingerly dig beneath their wings to grip onto the Supreme Primarch's hand so that hold wouldn't be lost beneath a hefty pile of feathers that served to keep them warm. His own wings shift quietly, moving to cover up more of the smaller primarch as he leans back into the couch. It's undeniably comfortable - even in the silence that's filled only by the sound of his own voice, and the occasional thud or conversation by passing crew members. During the years he had spent in Canaan, the quiet had been a dreadfully lonely thing; cold, as well. In it, he would walk through the old gardens and picture the places where Sandalphon used to often visit to fill the increasing hole that had taken hold of his heart. Now, here aboard this ship, the quiet is something he can take solace in - it's something gentle and warm. He doesn't have to imagine conversations or visits with the archangel any longer because Sandalphon is almost always beside him these days. There's rarely a moment when they're apart, save for when missions call the other away or the Captain steals the Supreme Primarch for some job. And, even those moments, Lucifer doesn't find as lonely as he thought they might be - it's not the same type of feeling that takes hold of him as it had been when he had been waiting for the other in that distant garden.

It's the slurred sound of Sandalphon's voice that pulls Lucifer from his thoughts, and his gaze finally shifts from the book to the archangel. His sultry tone feels warm against the former Supreme Primarch's ear, and Lucifer knows his core swells at the sensation because he can feel the faintest fire begin to boil within his chest. That, too, is a feeling he's slowly growing used to, and one he's come to adore because it's one Sandalphon ignites within him. "Hmmm, so you are," he hums softly against the other's ear, his voice deep in his throat and laced with just the smallest spark of exhaustion this comfort brings to him naturally. But he can tell, rather easily, how bashful Sandalphon gets the moment he realizes his little slip-up, and Lucifer has to fight down a chuckle at the apology that follows, but oh his smile betrays just how fond he is of the other - and just how much and how deeply he loves him. "You need not apologize, Sandalphon." He pushes the book up onto the table from where it had been leaning against its frame, and relaxes against the other. "Forgive me for not realizing how tired you were. We can always continue the book tomorrow." Ever so lightly, he cranes his head so he can place the softest of kisses upon the archangel's head before leaning against his wild hair once more. Beneath their wings, his thumbs traces soothing circles upon Sandalphon's knuckles - carefully falling over each groove, and softly rubbing every scar and callous he feels as if he's trying to ease whatever pain they might have caused when they had first found their upon the other's skin. And lingering on the promise ring he had given to the other some time ago now. "Would you like to turn in for the night, or perhaps I could make you a cup of coffee, or choose something else to read to you? I have a novella here one of the Skyfarers of the crew lent me not too long ago, as well as beans that another gifted to me." Ah, he's still, even after all of this time, getting used to how excited and generous the members of the crew were. "Or, if you are hungry, I can make you something. Katalina did give me a recipe she is rather fond of the other day."

@lucisflos​ whispered: 

She smiled and saw him watching the stars on their favorite spot which was on the deck it’s been awhile since she’s seen him Gran has been giving her a lot of missions so it’s been hard to spend time with him but now she had a break and a week off she joined him in watching the stars and placed a mug filled with coffee next to him Sandalophon wanted her to give it to him since he was busy running the cafe.”The stars are beautiful tonight they’re like crystals oh Sandalophon wanted to make sure you got warm so he made you some coffee also I know it’s early but what you like for Christmas?”

    To find him nestled amongst the ship's sails as the stars illuminate the night was far from unusual for the former Supreme Primarch these days. When the hustle and bustle of the cafe died down, and they closed for the day -- or on days like today when Sandalphon insisted he take some time to rest, he had a habit of finding himself drawn to the skies he had once watched over. Their beauty hasn't dulled in the countless centuries he's been gazing at them, nor has their radiance ever failed to stir something deep within his care, but they have changed in the short time it's been since he had been given this second chance at life. They seem brighter somehow. More alive, and far more vast than they had ever been from Canaan. Within them are countless islands he knows of, but has never stepped foot on. Before, he could only dream of going to them -- to see how the Skydwellers had changed them, and how they lived now. Now; however, he had little doubt that for as long as he remains upon this ship he'll see thousands of islands himself, and be able to step foot upon so many more. Yet, despite how much has changed, these skies still feel like an old friend to him. He had confined in them more times than he could count -- they had watched over him as he had curiously learned of this world, and he had whispered countless wishes for their ears only. And so, coming out on the deck to count the stars, ad piece together the constellations, felt like visiting a long-time friend.

    It wasn't unusual, either, for others to join him whenever they spotted him. And so he only tilts his head at the sound of footsteps upon the worn wood of the ship; a smile falling gracefully and naturally upon his rosy lips. The motion catches the glow cast by the moon lingering well above them, making his fair hair look like starlight as it sways in the breeze. "Indeed they are," he agrees easily, his voice gentle as always. Though he had been somewhat awkward at first, and, arguably still was at times, when it came to interacting with the other crew members as a result of just how long he had isolated himself from others, he was slowly coming around to learning more about each one of them. Lucina; of course, though, was one of the first he had spoken to thanks to their mutual interest in coffee. By now, he would call her a friend, perhaps the first he had made since setting foot upon this ship, and he was ever grateful for her patience.

   "Is that so?" His attention shifts downwards to the coffee she hands him. The aroma wafting from its surface is rich and better - he'd recognize the scent anywhere. After all, he had taught Sandalphon how to make coffee, even if the other has far surpassed him in that department over the years - though he imagines the archangel would beg to differ. There's something terribly distinct about how the current Supreme Primarch brews coffee, and Lucifer would know it in less time that it would take for his core to beat a single time. "I am grateful you would take the time to bring this to me. I will have to thank him later." He gingerly accepts the cup from her, allowing the hot contents inside to warm his palms. Much like how the skies have changed, he's changed as well. He finds he gets colder much easier these days, after all, he no longer has his former abilities to rely on for simply tasks. And so little things like this have become much needed.

    At the question, he hums softly, glancing away from her while holding the mug to his chest. "Christmas? I see, it is always best to plan ahead so one can be prepared." He celebrated the holiday with the crew last year, and so he is somewhat familiar with it now. "I am afraid I have not given it much thought. I would be more than content to simply have a chance to make you another cup of coffee. I have a new recipe I think you might enjoy." He rubs the rim of the mug with his thumb, warming his fingers up a bit more before he takes a careful sip of the piping hot coffee. "What about yourself, Lucina? What is it you would like for Christmas?"