Lucifer pulled his car into the gravel lot of a small, unassuming restaurant tucked between two towering oaks. It wasn't the type of place that screamed "romantic," but its warm, inviting glow promised good food and a laid-back vibe. The sign above the entrance read Mary's Kitchen in faded cursive, and the smell of sizzling meat and freshly baked bread wafted through the air, teasing their appetites.

Shifting the car into park, Lucifer glanced over at Sunday. She was gazing out the window, her fingers absently twirling a strand of her curly hair. The light from the dashboard illuminated her features, making her look even softer, like something out of a dream.

He stepped out of the car and, in one fluid motion, rounded the hood to her side. Opening the passenger door, he held out his hand. "Come on, Canada. Let's eat before you start whining about being hungry."

Sunday rolled her eyes at the nickname but took his hand nonetheless. Her small fingers slid into his larger ones, her touch warm against his calloused palm. "I wasn't whining," she said with mock indignation as she stepped out. "I was merely expressing a human need for sustenance."

"Right," he replied, his lips twitching into a smirk. "Human need. Got it."

Her fingers lingered in his hand for a beat longer than necessary before she pulled away, smoothing out her dress. Lucifer pretended not to notice, shoving his hands into his pockets as they walked toward the entrance. He held the door open for her, nodding at the soft "thank you" she murmured as she stepped inside.

The restaurant was quaint, with mismatched chairs and wooden tables that had seen better days. The walls were adorned with vintage photographs, old license plates, and a chalkboard menu listing the daily specials. It was the kind of place where the servers knew your name and the food tasted like home.

A waitress greeted them with a warm smile, leading them to a table by the window. The light from the streetlamps outside cast a soft glow over their table, and the faint hum of conversation from other diners filled the air.

Lucifer sat across from Sunday, his broad shoulders making the chair seem almost comically small. He picked up the menu, scanning it quickly, while Sunday took her time, her eyes darting over the options. She glanced around the room, taking in the cozy decor before her gaze landed back on him.

"What's good here?" she asked, tilting her head slightly.

Lucifer shrugged, his voice casual. "Everything's decent. Burgers are solid, though."

She raised an eyebrow, clearly unimpressed by his lack of detail. "That's not helpful."

"You'll survive," he said, smirking as he leaned back in his chair.

Sunday rolled her eyes but smiled anyway, her focus returning to the menu. As she read, her brow furrowed slightly, and she bit her bottom lip in concentration. Lucifer found himself watching her, the way the light caught the golden flecks in her hazel eyes and how her curls framed her face. She had this effortless way of looking like she belonged anywhere, even in a rundown diner like this.

The waitress returned to take their orders. Lucifer went with a double cheeseburger and fries, while Sunday opted for a plate of vegetable pasta. The waitress jotted it down, gave them a polite nod, and disappeared into the kitchen.

For a while, they sat in companionable silence, the sounds of clinking plates and quiet laughter filling the gaps. Sunday fidgeted with her silverware, tapping the edge of her fork against the table as she glanced out the window.

Lucifer broke the silence first. "What's goin' on in that head of yours?" he asked, his deep voice cutting through the quiet.

She looked back at him, startled. "What do you mean?"

"You're thinkin' about somethin'. I can see it on your face."

Sunday hesitated, her fingers brushing over the edge of the table. "It's nothing," she said, but the way her gaze flickered to the window again gave her away.

Lucifer leaned forward, resting his forearms on the table. "You're a terrible liar, you know that?"

She sighed, finally meeting his gaze. "It's just... you're hard to figure out sometimes. One minute you're all brooding and quiet, and the next you're... well, this." She gestured vaguely at him, a small smile playing on her lips.

Lucifer smirked. "This, huh? What's 'this' supposed to mean?"

"I don't know. You're just... surprising," she admitted, her cheeks flushing slightly. "In a good way."

Lucifer's smirk softened into something more genuine. "Well, don't get used to it. I like keepin' people on their toes."

Sunday laughed, the sound light and melodic. "Mission accomplished."

Their food arrived shortly after, the plates steaming with delicious aromas. Lucifer wasted no time digging into his burger, while Sunday took a more delicate approach, twirling her pasta around her fork.

As they ate, Sunday suddenly reached across the table, grabbing his arm and turning it palm-up. Lucifer raised an eyebrow, his chewing slowing as he watched her inspect his tattoos. Her fingers were light against his skin, tracing the lines of ink that decorated his forearm.

"What are you doin'?" he asked, his voice tinged with amusement.

"You have so many tattoos," she said, almost to herself, her eyes focused on the intricate designs.

"Yeah, I do," he replied, setting down his burger to watch her more closely.

"How many do you have?" she asked, her touch moving to the swirling patterns on his wrist.

Lucifer shrugged. "Lost count after a while. I just keep gettin' more."

Sunday's fingers lingered on a particular tattoo, a black-and-gray depiction of a lion surrounded by flames. "This one's cool," she said, glancing up at him.

"Yeah?" He smirked. "Got that one a couple years ago. The lion's supposed to mean strength or somethin'. My mom used to say I had a lotta fight in me, so it felt right."

Sunday's expression softened. "That's... actually really sweet."

Lucifer chuckled, his deep voice rumbling. "Don't spread that around. Gotta keep my reputation intact."

She laughed, letting go of his arm but not before giving it a playful squeeze. "Your secret's safe with me, tough guy."

They finished their meal, the conversation flowing easily between them. Sunday told him about a recent video she'd filmed for her YouTube channel, and Lucifer listened, genuinely interested despite his usual indifference to social media. He found her enthusiasm infectious, and before he knew it, he was asking questions, prompting her to share more.

As the evening wore on, the restaurant began to empty, leaving just a few patrons scattered across the room. Lucifer glanced at his watch, surprised at how much time had passed.

"You ready to head out?" he asked, finishing off the last of his drink.

Sunday nodded, her smile lingering. "Yeah. Thanks for dinner, by the way."

"Don't mention it," he said, standing and tossing some cash on the table. "Let's go, Canada."

She rolled her eyes but followed him out, their steps falling in sync as they walked back to his car. The night air was cool, and the stars above were unusually bright. Sunday tilted her head back, gazing up at the sky.

"Pretty night," she said softly.

Lucifer glanced at her, his expression unreadable. "Yeah. It is."

They reached the car, and he opened the door for her again, waiting as she climbed in. As he rounded the hood and slid into the driver's seat, he couldn't help but glance at her once more. She was staring out the window, her face illuminated by the soft glow of the dashboard.

"Thanks for tonight," she said, turning to look at him. "I had fun."

Lucifer smirked, starting the engine. "Don't get all mushy on me now."

Sunday laughed, the sound filling the car as they pulled out of the lot. For the first time in a long time, Lucifer felt a sense of ease he couldn't quite explain. And as they drove into the night, he couldn't shake the feeling that maybe, just maybe, he didn't mind her crazy ass as much as he let on.