Distance couldn't really keep them apart.
Even miles away, Lucifer and Eliza stayed tangled in each other's worlds through texts, calls, blurry selfies, late-night voice notes, and random pictures of everything and nothing.
Lucifer had a habit now: the second he saw something cute or ridiculous, his fingers moved on instinct, snapping a photo and sending it straight to Eliza. Whether it was a cat curled inside a flowerpot like a cinnamon roll, a squirrel stealing birdseed in the funniest way possible, or just a sky that looked extra pink at sunset he shared it all with her.
Their conversations never really paused, just flowed in bits and pieces throughout the day.
Lucifer: "I found a flower that looks like your pout when you're mad at me. Should I keep it or frame it?"
Eliza: "Frame it, obviously. That's premium pout energy."
And when the ache of missing her started to feel like a physical weight in his chest, Lucifer would hit that video call button. Whether he was lying on the couch, curled up in bed, or sitting on the porch in the freezing air the second she answered, his whole world got warmer.
She never missed a call. And he never missed a chance to see her sleepy eyes and tell her she was beautiful.
But there was one thing he didn't talk about — at least, not directly.
To his grandparents, Lucifer spoke of Eliza all the time. He didn't even realize how often her name slipped into conversations.
"She's super smart, you know? Keeps beating me in quizzes."
"She once saved my butt in Chemistry by scribbling formulas on my hand when the teacher wasn't looking."
"She likes cats but gets scared when they meow too loudly."
Little things. All the time. He hadn't told them about the relationship — but he didn't have to. He wore her name like a second skin.
---
One chilly afternoon, Lucifer found his grandpa outside in the backyard, chopping firewood with his sleeves rolled up like it was spring.
"Whoa," Lucifer blinked, stepping into the snow. "In this cold? No jacket? Bare hands?"
His grandpa grunted, not looking up. "Bah, it's fine. Keeps the blood flowing. Did this every winter before you were born."
"Still... let me help," Lucifer offered.
The old man glanced over. "You think I'm too old for this, huh?"
Lucifer laughed. "Nope. Just think it's time I earned my pie."
The old man huffed, then after a beat, handed him a second axe. "Careful with that. I don't need you chopping off your foot."
Lucifer grinned. "Please. I'm still young. Not like you, old man."
They both chuckled and began cutting together.
Side by side, they chopped. The rhythm settled — crack, crunch, breath — and the cold began to fade from their limbs. It was peaceful, the kind of quiet that came only in winter.
Then, out of nowhere, his grandpa asked, "So… that girl Eliza you keep talking about — is she your girlfriend?"
Lucifer froze mid-swing. "Wait—what?! How did you—?"
His grandpa gave him a knowing smirk. "Boy, you think I haven't noticed?"
He tossed another log on the pile and went on, "Every time I ask about school, you start with, 'Eliza did this' or 'Eliza said that.' It's like she's living in your mouth."
Lucifer rubbed the back of his neck, a shy smile creeping onto his face. "Did I really say that much?"
"Son," his grandpa laughed, "you talk about her so much, I'm surprised she isn't already here."
Lucifer chuckled sheepishly. "Maybe I miss her more than I realized."
His grandpa just nodded and kept chopping. "When you love someone, it spills out. Whether you want it to or not."
Lucifer didn't reply. He just smiled to himself, chest a little warmer.
---
They continued working, the silence this time filled with understanding.
Then Lucifer asked, a little breathless, "Grandpa… I heard from Mom that you and Grandma were in love before you got married. Is that true?"
His grandpa paused, leaning on the axe handle with a nostalgic sigh. "Yeah. It's true."
Lucifer leaned closer, curiosity blooming like a kid hearing his favorite bedtime story. "How did you meet her? Like… what's your story?"
The old man chuckled, shaking his head like he was back in that exact moment.
"Well," he began, "I saw your grandma at the village fair. She had the most stubborn look on her face — like she was ready to slap any boy who looked at her too long."
Lucifer grinned. "And naturally, you looked too long?"
"Of course," his grandpa laughed. "She ignored me for weeks. Pretended I didn't exist. But I kept showing up. Helping with chores near her house. Carrying baskets, fetching water. Eventually, I asked her parents if I could marry her."
"They said yes?" Lucifer asked eagerly.
His grandpa smirked. "They said no. At first. But your old grandpa has charm."
Lucifer raised an eyebrow. "So I gotta impress Eliza's parents too, huh? Guess I inherited that charm."
His grandpa snorted. "Well, yeah. You're my grandson."
They both laughed, wiping sweat from their brows despite the cold.
"And then what happened?"
"Then we got married," his grandpa said with a soft smile. "Built a life. Had your mom. And… well. She grew up. Got married to your dad."
The last line came quieter. More careful. A bit strained.
Lucifer's grin faded just a little, the moment growing still.
His grandpa looked at him, as if trying to steer the mood back.
"And then," he said gently, "we got you — our loudmouth grandson with the biggest heart in the family."
Lucifer smiled again, quieter this time. With a deep breath, he looked at his grandpa, eyes soft.
"Love you, Grandpa," he mumbled.
The old man gave him a firm pat on the shoulder. "Love you too, boy."
---
Just then, a voice echoed from the house. "You two! Come get your dessert before it melts!"
Lucifer and his grandpa turned to each other.
Lucifer grinned, mischief dancing in his eyes. "Race you. First one to finish chopping gets extra pie."
"Don't challenge me, boy," his grandpa warned, lifting his axe. "I've had more pie in my life. I'm motivated."
Lucifer smirked. "I gotta keep up my strength — I've got a girlfriend to impress, remember?"
Just as they raised their tools like warriors…
His grandma stormed out with her hands on her hips. "Enough! First dessert, then your silly chopping contest!"
"Yes, ma'am," they chorused like two schoolboys caught red-handed.
As they trudged toward the house, laughing and brushing snow from their sleeves, Lucifer's heart felt lighter than it had in days.
Even far from Eliza…
She was still in everything.
To be continued....