Lucas POV

Lucas's head spun as the overpowering stench of burnt meat filled his nostrils. The apartment looked like a war zone: a shredded couch, a trashed table, and shattered glass littered the floor. Dark coffee stains and torn curtains added to the chaos. Yet, amid the devastation, Lucas's fingers brushed against the cool metal of the necklace Kyle had given him. The pendant felt heavy now, like a weight tethering him to the past and the promise it once held.

"What's that, Kyle?" Lucas asked, his voice trembling as he pointed at the charred corpse in the pentagram. His hand shook uncontrollably, his mind struggling to process the twisted, blackened legs and razor-sharp claws.

Kyle's eyes brimmed with sorrow. He hesitated, his shoulders sagging under the weight of what he was about to reveal. "That's..."

Lucas's anxiety spiked, and he started to hyperventilate. His gaze fell on the wet stickiness on Kyle's T-shirt and the viscous red goo clinging to his fingers. "What the hell? What is this?" Lucas muttered, confusion overwhelming him. The stench of iron and ammonia filled his nostrils, making his stomach churn.

"Blood," Kyle said quietly, his voice barely above a whisper. Panic surged through Lucas as he stepped back, hands trembling uncontrollably. He unbuttoned Kyle's T-shirt with shaky fingers, searching for signs of injury.

Lucas's muscles tensed as he examined Kyle's body, finding no cuts or wounds. Relief mixed with confusion. He felt guilt for his hasty actions and noticed the profound sadness in Kyle's eyes.

"Why is he so sad? What's wrong?" Lucas's heart raced with fear and anger. He clenched his fists, the pressure in his chest becoming unbearable.

"I am so sorry, Lucas; I didn't want any of this for you," Kyle stammered, his voice breaking.

"What the hell happened here?" Lucas roared, his eyes cold and harsh, his emotions reaching a breaking point.

Kyle hesitated, his throat working as he gulped. "That's a chaos monster from Hell."

Lucas's shock morphed into concern, then horror. "How did it get here? And why do you know about it?"

The grotesque remains, the chaos, and the blood all pointed to something beyond his understanding. Lucas approached the burnt creature, stepping over shattered glass and a broken picture frame. The monster's six twisted legs ended in razor-sharp claws, its body covered in sickly, iridescent scales. The stench of decay made his stomach churn.

"A monster from Hell?" Lucas echoed, disbelief and dread rising in his voice.

The creature's head was the most horrifying: jagged teeth formed a nightmarish smile, and its bulging eyes were frozen in shock. Smoke still curled from its scorched flesh.

Lucas's spine shivered as he processed the creature's horror. He turned to Kyle, eyes narrowing with confusion and anger. "Why is this thing here?"

Kyle's shoulders slumped, his voice heavy with regret. "It came after me, probably to kill me or drag me to Hell."

Lucas's body tensed. "Kill you?" he repeated, trying to understand.

His gaze shifted between the corpse and Kyle. "Drag you to Hell? Who are you?"

Kyle's eyes showed regret and pain. "Estelmati, star of the morning, Morningstar. I was once called Lucifer Morningstar, the former ruler of Hell."

Lucas needed a moment for the words to sink in. He thought he had misheard Kyle say, "Lucifer." The proud figure from Lord Byron's poem and the terrifying monster in the paintings about the apocalypse in a church of his home country now collided with the man before him.

The weight of Kyle's words hit Lucas like a sledgehammer. "Lucifer Morningstar? You're... the devil? Like in the Bible?"

Kyle nodded, sorrow and resolve etched into his features. "Yes, but I'm not here to harm you. I left that life behind."

Lucas staggered back, his mind reeling. "Lucifer Morningstar? How is this possible?" His breath came in short, shaky gasps. The charred corpse and the revelation were overwhelming. He felt disoriented as if the ground had shifted beneath him.

He scoffed at the idea of Heaven and Hell, feeling disconnected from religious notions. 

Lucas recalled Kyle's previous claims. "You fought with your father and made your way?"

Lucas babbled, repeating Kyle's words with disbelief: "I didn't want to obey his orders. I manage unruly souls. I haven't seen my father in ages."

Kyle remained still, eyes locked on Lucas, his expression a mix of pain and resignation.

Lucas shook his head. "No way. You're joking, right? I thought you were just a dramatic, trust-fund kid turned responsible adult."

"Heaven and Hell are just Catholic inventions to control people," Lucas said, frowning, his voice tinged with anger and confusion.

Kyle shook his head. "Nope. They exist. Would you like to see some proof?"

Lucas nodded hesitantly, his heart pounding as he moved forward cautiously.

Kyle, however, stepped back and sighed. "Alright."

As Kyle retreated to the room's center, his wings unfurled with a fluid grace. They were immense, feathers shimmering with soft, ethereal light, blending silver and iridescent hues as they caught the sunlight from the window. Lucas took a tentative step closer, sidestepping a broken lamp.

Kyle's encouraging nod urged him on. "Come."

Lucas advanced carefully, avoiding a splintered table leg, and reached out to Kyle's wings. The feathers felt sleek and surprisingly warm. The wings stretched wide, enveloping the space with a protective, awe-inspiring aura.

"They're beautiful," Lucas said, stunned. Standing close to Kyle, he could feel Kyle's quiet strength and vulnerability emanating from him. When engulfed by its warmth, Lucas felt a spark of pure joy as if he had belonged there all his life, just like coming home.

Lucas felt a surge of warmth as he touched Kyle's wings. The heat was intense, and he pulled his hand away, realizing this wasn't a dream. The necklace, warm against his chest, seemed to pulse in tandem with his racing heart. "So this is the real you?"

Kyle nodded.

"Are you an angel? A demon?"

Kyle shook his head. "I'm one of the fallen."

Lucas took a step back, his hand retreating from Kyle's wings. He observed the otherworldly glow in Kyle's golden eyes. This was the same Kyle who had captivated him with charm and charisma, hinting at a more profound, unsettling knowledge.

"I thought I was the one hiding secrets. Why?" Lucas asked softly.

Kyle took Lucas's hands, his gaze earnest and filled with pain. "I was afraid you'd see me as a monster and run away."

Lucas glanced around the ruined apartment, noting the scattered books, the torn couch, and the burned creature. "At the store, that German guy called you Mr. Morningstar. I thought it was strange, but now... Was he a demon, too?"

Kyle shook his head. "Just another fallen one."

"Why did they try to kill you?" Lucas asked, his voice trembling.

Kyle's gaze turned somber. "It's hard to say, but the current rulers of Hell probably don't want me back. Killing me would prevent that."

Lucas frowned. "Is that all? It seems like there's more to it."

Kyle sighed. "The monster might have been sent to drag me back to stop the management's current plans. I am not the only one who hates their guts."

Lucas tilted his head. "Do they need to go to such extremes?"

Kyle looked away, his gaze fixed on the floor. "I needed a break. The pandemic was overwhelming. I left because I was exhausted."

Lucas thought about his struggles and Kyle's timely help. Had Kyle been manipulating events all along?

"Something doesn't add up," Lucas murmured, sensing inconsistencies in Kyle's story. Kyle's sorrowful expression seemed genuine, yet something felt off.

"Why didn't Hell notice your absence sooner?" Lucas asked, his voice cracking with disbelief.

Kyle looked out the window. "Hell's society evolved similarly to human society. Now, it is more like a bureaucracy than anything else. They didn't realize I was gone for a while."

Lucas struggled to accept this. "Are you serious?"

Kyle nodded with a hint of disdain. "They even formed a committee to investigate and vote."

Kyle's bitterness took Lucas aback. It was the first time he'd heard him speak with such scorn.

Pacing, Lucas wrestled with the realization that Kyle was not who he thought he was. Despite the revelations, Kyle's kindness had helped Lucas heal, and he had fallen for him. Lucas had known for a while but couldn't accept it fully. Now, amidst the room's chaos, he was also grappling with betrayal, confusion, and the pain of realizing his feelings for Kyle might have been manipulated.

"Did Kyle make me fall in love on purpose?" Lucas wondered, feeling the weight of possible manipulation.

Lucas looked at the place he was standing on; the scattered paperwork done days ago to open their business was dusted and twisted. Kyle had been so earnest with him, and with their life together, he was committed to making their business work. Why? It couldn't be to make him fall for him. No, impossible. Lucas saw himself as a regular person, so why deceive him? Why hide?

Overwhelmed, Lucas couldn't face Kyle anymore. "Was it all a lie?"

"What?" Kyle asked, bewildered.

"Everything," Lucas said, tears welling up. "Was everything between us a fake?"

Kyle's eyes widened as if a sudden realization hit him. He stuttered, "Us?"

Kyle immediately panicked and tried to hold Lucas's hand but failed. "No! It was real!"

Lucas, unable to contain his emotions, punched Kyle's chest. Kyle staggered but allowed Lucas to vent his frustration.

Lucas thought, "If I could make Kyle feel just a fraction of my pain." His fists continued to hit Kyle as Lucas's heartbreak poured out.

"Lucas, please..." Kyle's voice cracked.

Lucas hated that he still cared, even at this moment. He howled, "Was it all false?"

Kyle shook his head. "No, I was just waiting for the moment to..."

Lucas's tears flowed freely. "Were you manipulating me?"

Kyle's heart raced. "No, Lucas, never. I am your friend, and I care about you."

Kyle kept his eyes on Lucas but couldn't hold them for long. He murmured, "I hadn't realized how much the word 'us' meant until I saw your pain. I am an idiot."

Torn between disbelief and a lingering connection, Lucas struggled to reconcile Kyle's true identity with the person he had come to know. Despite the pain, he sensed Kyle's sincerity.

Kyle gently touched Lucas's cheek. "You're kind, thoughtful, and passionate. I wanted you to succeed."

The warmth in Kyle's touch began to break down Lucas's anger, revealing a reluctant understanding. It felt tender and intimate, like when he had held him when Jacob delivered the divorce papers. Kyle's honesty, despite his secrets, softened Lucas's stance, leaving him with a mix of confusion and acceptance.

Lucas released Kyle entirely and stepped back. Kyle followed. He wasn't going to let the misunderstanding continue. "I should have told you earlier, but I thought it was best to wait a little longer with everything happening. Just a few more days. You had enough on your plate."

Lucas stumbled over a pile of books, stepping back from Kyle. "Just a few more days?" he repeated, his voice icy. "What was going to happen in those days, Kyle?"

Kyle hesitated, unable to respond. Lucas's accusation cut through the silence. "You were going to abandon me, weren't you?" He punched Kyle's chest, his frustration evident.

Kyle's gaze dropped, his shame palpable. "I wanted to protect you," he said, his voice breaking.

"By leaving me with questions?" Lucas's voice faltered, filled with pain.

"By not risking your life!" Kyle retorted, pushing Lucas. Lucas stumbled and fell, the chaos of the room reflecting their turmoil.

Shocked by their actions, both men said, "I am a monster."

Kyle fell to his knees, trembling. "I'm so sorry, Lucas. Please forgive me."

Lucas shook his head, tears in his eyes. "I'm sorry, too. I had no right to hit you."

Kyle's voice was firm despite his regret. "You had every right. If it helps, keep hitting me until you've released everything."

Lucas let out a tearful chuckle. "That's tempting."

Lucas surveyed the wreckage around him. "I have to leave," he said, his voice heavy.

Kyle was taken aback. "What? Why?"

Lucas's shoulders slumped as he spoke. "I can't stay. It's too overwhelming."

Kyle stepped closer, pleading. "No, you can't do that. You ended up here the first time when your friends couldn't take you in. What are you going to do? Should you stay at an Airbnb?"

Lucas hesitated, visibly conflicted.

Kyle's expression softened. "I thought so."

Kyle observed the devastation and the toll it had taken on him and Lucas. "I should be the one to leave. You need to heal."

The thought of Kyle leaving felt like a heavy blow. Despite the chaos, Lucas understood Kyle's genuine commitment. Their unspoken feelings hung in the air.

Kyle moved closer, his resolve unwavering. "I'm the one who messed up. I'm the one to blame. I am causing you a lot of pain, but please remember, everything we shared—moments, affection, my desire to be with you—is real. You need space, time, maybe even coffee."

Kyle approached Lucas's face, his eyes focused on Lucas's lips. Yet he stood there momentarily, and then the moment was gone. Kyle started looking for his jacket, leaving Lucas grappling with the new reality of their situation.

As Kyle packed his belongings, Lucas grappled with the emotional wreckage of their relationship and the uncertainty ahead. He noticed his torn jeans and felt a pang of realization. "Wait, you fought. Shouldn't you get checked out?"

Kyle retrieved his coat from the debris and slipped it on. "I'll stay with Lillian. She knows the whole story. We can talk there when you're ready."

Kyle retreated to his room, allowing Lucas to collect his thoughts and follow him. Lucas watched silently as Kyle packed, struggling with a swirl of emotions.

Kyle noticed Lucas's presence and spoke softly. "I don't like leaving you here, but I think you should have some space."

Once Kyle finished packing, he approached the door where Lucas stood and crossed it to head toward the main exit. The sight of Kyle leaving, juxtaposed with the wreckage of their home, highlighted the profound impact of his departure.

Kyle glanced back at the trashed apartment and Lucas, who followed behind. "I know I've made you question everything, and maybe I've ruined things between us forever. But what I feel is genuine. And now I realize you feel the same way, too."

Opening the door, Kyle cast one final look at Lucas, his expression a mix of sadness and hope. "I will be waiting for you."

The door clicked shut behind him, the lock turning softly. However, Lucas didn't hear any footsteps for a while. Lucas wondered, "Is Kyle still here behind the doorframe? Should I open the door and bring him back?"

Lucas stood by the door, listening intently until he heard the wooden floor creak as Kyle finally left their home. The silence that followed was heavy and oppressive, and Lucas felt his chest tighten as the reality of what had just happened sank in. He dried the tears he hadn't realized were dampening his cheeks, his heartbeat still deafening in his ears.

Once a place of comfort and warmth, the apartment now felt alien and cold. As Lucas surveyed the disarray, he was struck by the stark contrast between the current state of the apartment and its past vibrancy. The room was littered with scattered papers and broken furniture, and Kyle's belongings mingled with his own. A stray book lay open on the floor next to some tickets from the Irish pub they had once visited together, now covered in dust. A half-packed bag of dirty clothes, which Kyle had left behind, held the scent of his cologne, mingling with the musty smell of the apartment.

Lucas's gaze fell on the couch, where a cushion was askew, and a spilled coffee mug had stained the rug. The scene was a chaotic blend of their shared life—personal items and mementos of their relationship, now symbols of upheaval. The mess spoke of physical disorder and the emotional turmoil that had unfolded. Despite the relief of having space to reflect, guilt gnawed at him for letting Kyle go.

Watching Kyle's retreating figure through the window, Lucas was haunted by a painful memory—the moment he had discovered Jacob with another man in Segovia. That betrayal had shattered his world; now, Kyle's departure felt like another cruel twist of fate.

Kyle's words echoed in his mind: "I'm the one who messed up. I'm the one to blame." Lucas wondered if things might have been different if Jacob had been the one to leave instead. Jacob's abandonment had been marked by selfishness, whereas Kyle's departure was laced with genuine concern. The home with Jacob had fallen apart like a fragile playhouse, while the apartment with Kyle, despite its chaos, felt like a home built with care and intention.

Lucas sank onto the torn couch, the clutter around him symbolizing more than just a physical mess—it represented unresolved feelings and difficult choices. The familiar warmth of the sofa was now tainted by the recent chaos, making it a symbol of the fragility of their happiness. If Kyle returned, it might bring more supernatural challenges, but it would also mean facing them together. Kyle's actions—letting Lucas vent his anger and battling monsters—showed a level of integrity that Lucas found reassuring.

Yet, the true motives behind Kyle's presence in Madrid remained unclear. Was his reason for being here—personal growth or a break—merely a cover for something more significant? Hints from Professor Ortiz and enigmatic figures suggested a deeper story behind Kyle's arrival.

Lucas's phone rang, interrupting his thoughts. It was Victor asking about the day's lecture. Lucas had forgotten entirely about his studies and why he had come early. He wanted to call him, but his hands trembled as he managed to deal with what had happened. Lucas breathed deeply, trying to focus on a task that could help him out of his turmoil. He chose to clean the apartment.

As he moved a pile of Kyle's clothes from the floor, the scent of his cologne filled the air, intensifying his sense of loss. Seeking advice from friends would have to wait. For now, he needed to navigate his emotions and the uncertainty of Kyle's true intentions.

Despite the turmoil in his heart, Lucas felt a spark of determination ignite. Kyle had left, but he wasn't gone forever. There was still a chance to confront the truth, to find answers, and perhaps even to reconcile. The business they had dreamed of together was still something he wanted to pursue, not just as a means of survival but as a way to create something meaningful.

As Lucas pondered his next steps, the doorbell rang. The doorbell's shrill ring hung in the air, jarring Lucas from his spiraling thoughts. He hesitated, heart pounding in his chest. Some of him hoped that Kyle had returned, but another feared what lay beyond the door.

Lucas took a deep breath and opened the door to find a tall, blonde man standing there. His eyes were sharp, and his presence exuded a quiet menace that sent a shiver down Lucas's spine.

"Hello. Is Mr. Morningstar at home?" the man asked, smiling thinly, his voice smooth with a thick German accent.

"Oh. Crap," Lucas muttered, feeling a fresh wave of confusion and anxiety.

His problems had just begun.

Kyle POV

Standing in the hallway, he debated about where to go. He would have to cancel his trip to the land of the fae for now and wait for Lucas as promised, yet he had to tell Uriel to check on Lucas's every move. 

Kyle sighed, a warm feeling spread through him. If the ensuing fight with Lucas after he discovered the truth taught him anything, it was that Lucas loved him fiercely. His affection was as deep as his, and despite the circumstances, Kyle felt hope for that. Their love might survive the trial ahead.

He stepped out of the house, not noticing a blonde man was watching his every move.

Word count: 3138