“I can’t help it…”

Another laugh escapes him.

He goes still, glances down at Michael’s foot, then back up at him.

Then—

A soft, helpless laugh escapes him.

He rests his chin against Michael’s shoulder, smiling faintly.

“Then do it.”

“No… Lucifer…” Reaches to take the bottle out of his hands. “Give it me…”

He watches him pace for a moment, then reaches to hug him from behind.

“Jialei… if you want to hit me, go ahead.”

He says nothing, only smiles faintly.

He bites his lip as he stares at him intently.

“On purpose?” He echoes softly, allowing himself to be pulled up.

“I didn’t…”

He shakes his head, sorrow clouding his features.

“Loved… Does he love me? I’m… just a second choice…”

Lucifer’s words linger in his mind, cruel and unyielding.

He stumbles as if the floor itself has betrayed him, arms flailing, knocking over a nearby torch before he crashes to the floor with a heavy thud.

He doesn’t pull away.

“If you want to curse me or hit me, you can do it.”

— for a brief moment before pressing their foreheads together. The mark flares brighter as he lets his power flow into Michael, restoring every memory that had been taken from him.

His gaze lingers on Michael’s flustered retreat, then he steps closer once more. The golden mark upon his forehead begins to glow softly. He reaches out, fingers firm yet gentle as he pulls Michael’s head down, until only an inch separates their faces.

He studies the breathtaking Archangel —

He finally lifts his head to meet the Archangel’s gaze, holding it for a long, silent moment. Before he can stop himself, he steps closer and presses his lips softly to his.

He falls silent, his hand lowering slowly.

Squints at him, finger still raised.

“Drunk? I am… perfectly… fine…”

He sways, cheeks flushed, pointing his forefinger at Lucifer.

“Y-you…”

Shakes head.

“No wine for kids.”