Back in Paris, morning had come around.
The hotel room curtains had been torn open like the gates of Heaven, allowing sunshine to spill all throughout the room. Reflecting off the smooth beige walls, the soft blue carpet, and the white sheets of the bed. Everything was kissed warm by the pleasant morning glow. —The epitome of comfort.
Lucifer was in the process of enjoying such comfort. He was stark naked, sprawled out on the bed, basking in the sunshine amidst the swirl of clean linen bedsheets. Beside him, the humidifier he had bullied Atticus into giving him sat puffing away, adding to the luxurious scene. His eyes were closed, and he was refusing to move. He was as limp as a cat in a sunbeam.
"Alright, we can offer vouchers," Said a voice, "It's not that big of a deal,"