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So there was that sinner: tall, very red, all smiles and laughs. She should have liked him; he was fun and interesting and with cute fluffy ears (that flicked jerkingly at her enthusiastic compliment while her dad snorted behind her like she said something funny). She should have liked him!
But she didn’t.
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A soft hand on his cheek once again startled Lucifer awake and he looked up wide eyed at Lilith who at some point got closer, with now visible worry creasing her face, "Dove, do you need some time away?"
"No, I-"
"This place is noisy enough, it can survive without an extra few duck quacks," Alastor tutted non unkindly.
"That's my emotional support Mister McQuackinsten!" Lucifer gasped in fake offense, getting the said duck out of the inner pocket, caressing it lovingly.
"What he meant-," Rosie chimmed in, carefully plucking the duck out of his hands, " -is that you need some time for youself, lamb."
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"ALASTOR, WHERE ARE YOU!"
The walls of the Hotel thundered with residents running to their rooms in a feeble attempt to hide from just wrath.
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Lucifer tried to fix his skirt, feeling shame and worry crawling back up his neck. He didn’t mind his feminine form per se, just not used to presenting it for anyone else outside of his family. In the past he used to flail out and about, bringing out his soft curves with fit fabrics, but eventually losing the habit as his outings thinned out more and more.
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Summary
It feels familiar. Dirty blond hair feels familiar. Burning magenta eyes feels familiar.

