Prompt:
30. "Tell me a secret."

theomacy
/θiˈɑm.ə.ki/
noun
3. an opposition to divine will

Chapter 6: Theomachy

"Tell me a secret," she whispers against his collarbone in the darkness of the penthouse, the thin curtain at window allowing the city lights to seep through the floor to ceiling glass, outlining his fine features and part of his body not covered by sheets.

He doesn't look at her at first, doesn't seem to even register her voice as he continues to draw random patterns on the exposed skin of her back with lazy fingers. His eyes are closed, breathing evenly and Chloe thinks he must have fallen asleep until his head turns towards her, fingers coming to a halt at the curve of her shoulder, pulling her closer to him.

"I have no secrets, Detective. Anything you wish to know, you only need to ask," he breathes against her forehead, nose in her hair and her eyes flutter close.

She loves when he does this, engulfing her against his warm body, making her forget the outside world while in his arms. He's more clingy at this time of day, just before they drift off to sleep - less talkative, less bravado. Not that she minds. Who knew the Devil is a cuddler?

"Then tell me something I don't already know," she pulls away slightly, just enough to look into his dark, almost black eyes. He blinks at her sleepily. "Like, when you decided to stay on Earth for a longer time, why did you choose Los Angeles? I would have thought Las Vegas was more your ground," her face pulls into a faint grimace at the mention of the city, unpleasant memories break though that perfectly fortified segment of her brain where she exiled the image of Candy and white sheet covered furnitures.

As if sensing her momentary self-inflicted discomfort, he takes a fallen lock of her hair between his thumb and forefinger, placing it behind her ear, lips pulling into her favorite smile, the one that reaches his eyes, making the cornes wrinkle up with faint crow's feet. "Too touristy," he answers, catching her wandering fingers as they slip under the warm sheets, placing a feather light kiss on her knuckles. "And too loud," he admits and he catches her lifting one of her eyebrows in surprise.

"What?" he asks in a fake offended voice as he gets into a half seated position on the mattress, back resting against the headboard of the bed. "Even the Devil needs some silence and calm once in a while."

Yes, he does. And she does too. And she adores those times when there are just the two of them, here, in his gigantic and comfortable bed, without any background noise. Or the times when he prepares her favorite omelette in the mornings, just before they start their busy days, he as a club owner slash police consultant and she as a detective and mother.

It's really nice to have a quiet place they can both retreat to.

"But," he continues, rousing her from her musings, "if I have to choose a reason besides prime real estate, perfect weather and it literally being the city of Angels," he stops and gets up from the bed, and Chloe has a few seconds to admire his naked glory before he slips into his black silk robe, holding out his arm to her, palm upwards.

Her brows pull into a frown for a moment before she realizes he wants her to also vacate the bed. She quickly pulls on his white shirt that had been hastily discarded on the floor earlier and takes his hand. Leaving the warm and comfortable bed at the middle of the night was very low on her list this night, but her curiosity gets the better of her.

She silently follows him through his spacious living room, bare feet touching marble floor is the only sound in the penthouse as they make their way to his ridiculously big balcony. Late night summer breeze brushing through her hair as they step out, freeing a lock from behind her ears.

He ushers her to the railing and she closes her palms around the metal rod, his hands land next to hers as his body stops behind her. His nose nuzzles her cheek lightly before he whispers in her ear, finishing his earlier explanation, "Those."

She turns her head to the side to look at his profile and he nods towards the sky. She glances at the direction his eyes are fixed and she scowls. "The stars?" she asks, her voice laced with doubt. "But you can see them everywhere. Even Las Vegas." It seems she really can't press delete on that stupid city, she silently berates herself for always bringing it up.

"Yes, fortunately the light pollution you humans are so determined to bring to every corner of the Earth has not dwindled their brilliance," he pauses. She has long since learned not to get offended by his use of "humans" because one, he's right and second, she knows better than to think he counts her in in those sentiments.

He shifts behind her, resting his cheek against the side of her head, body warm and solid behind her back. "But for some reason, they look different from here…feel different," he finishes and turns his head. She feels his dark gaze on her face, but instead of looking at him she glances back at the luminous spots adorning the night sky. She tilts her head and asks: "Did you really make them?"

She still doesn't look at him, in case she asked something stupid and he starts laughing at her. Not that it would stop the embarrassment or her cheeks turning red, because she's still fairly new to this whole celestial world and-

"Yes," his only answer, his lips pull into that smile again and this time, she turns her head to him, blinking rapidly, lips parting slightly.

Holy shit.

Her ask was half joking half curiosity-because-she-reads-way-too-much-shit-on-celestial-things. She already knew that the Sun was, in some way, his creation but this was something new. She didn't really expect a confirmative answer, but somehow the shock of it is more acceptable and not at all hard to digest than she would have thought. Guess not much can top the gigantic earthquake that rattled her world when she found out her partner is the literal Devil and there is God and Heaven and Hell.

"What are their purpose?" she inquires once she untangles her thoughts and wit.

He puffs out a soft laugh. "Literally nothing. They are just...there," he gets a longing and sentimental look in his dark eyes and she places her hand on top of his on the railing. "I made them for Mother. Father didn't like them - surprise, surprise - but Mom convinced Him not to destroy them," he shrugs, trying to sound nonchalant but she can hear the emotions in his voice.

She turns around, sneaking her arms around his neck and stands on her tiptoes and kisses him softly. His hands rest on either side of her waist, melting into her touch. "Well they are really beautiful. I'm glad they stayed," she inform him when they break apart, their nose touching.

"Yes, me too," he whispers, tucking a stray lock of her hair behind her ears, brushing his thumb across her cheek. "For me, they represent…"

"Free will," she finishes his thought, understanding washes through her and she feels her eyes water slightly at what those radiant heavenly bodies mean to him. Why she often finds him standing silently on the balcony, looking up at the sky. Why she's the one who's always driving when they travel to a crime scene at night. Why he has floor to ceiling windows on every wall in his penthouse and why his bed is next to that same kind of window.

"Yes," he breathes and awe and something else she can't name shines in his eyes. He's looking at her as if she was the one making his stars and she still needs to get used to his affection for her because it makes her heart beat like crazy and her skin feels like a thousand fireworks.

He's looking at her like someone finally understands and accepts him, all of him and she hasn't seen anything more beautiful.

She tightens her arms around his neck, presses their noses closer and whispers against his lips: "Let's get back to bed."

A chuckle escapes his lips before kissing her, and then scooping her up bridal style in his arms. She lets out a squeak at the sudden movement and then a happy giggle bubbles out of her. She maintains her arms around his neck, wandering fingers find their way into his already mussed hair. He lets out a soft moan against her lips as he starts to get back inside.

"Couldn't' have said it better, Detective."

And they disappear into the blackness of the penthouse, his stars are their only witnesses for the rest of the night.