A Breakfast of Memories and Love

*Capítulo Ocho* (part two)

After Lucifer cut off the link, he

prepared breakfast, Allistair's favorite strawberry pancake mix with strawberry syrup and egg toast, his mind preoccupied with thoughts of Allistair. The scent of food filled the vast west wing of Casa DelFierro, where they stayed on the fifth floor, a space so large it felt like an entire house of its own. The west wing overlooked the rose garden, created lovingly by Lucifer just for Allistair—a serene sea of roses blooming under the morning light. Casa DelFierro, with its five floors of gold and silver, was a palace adorned with antique paintings and objects, radiating grandeur and history. The south wing housed the enormous conference hall on the first floor, where Alexander, the council, and their friends had gathered.

Lucifer then turned back to his sleeping mate, quietly entering their shared bedroom. He sat on the edge of the bed, his eyes tender, filled with unspoken love as he watched Allistair's peaceful slumber.

"Fuck! What did I even do to deserve you, baby? I'm too evil, too cruel for you, and yet here you are. On my bed, sleeping so peacefully, so unguarded. How can you love someone like me?" Lucifer whispered, his fingers tracing the soft lines of Allistair's face. His voice cracked as tears slid down his cheeks. "I'm so sorry, *Amica Mea*, for being an asshole to you." His lips gently brushed Allistair's closed eyes, planting a kiss filled with tenderness and regret.

Allistair stirred awake at the touch, his senses catching the mix of emotions swirling in the room. His hazel eyes, full of concern, met Lucifer's tear-filled gaze. "*Mi Alfa*? What happened?" he asked, sitting up and cupping Lucifer's face in his hands, his voice laced with worry.

Lucifer leaned into his touch, his tears still falling. "I love you, *Amica Mea,* now and for eternity," he replied softly, resting his head in the warmth of Allistair's palms, his heart heavy with both love and guilt.

For a brief moment, Allistair's eyes widened as a sudden, vague flashback washed over him. He could almost hear the same words whispered before, but not in this room, not in this time. The voice was the same—deep, filled with love—but it belonged to a man dressed in ancient angelic robes, bathed in a soft, ethereal light. The vision flickered like a distant memory, just out of reach, but familiar in a way that made his heart race.

Shaking his head slightly, Allistair returned to the present, his gaze refocusing on Lucifer, unsure of where the memory had come from, but unable to deny the strange sense of déjà vu that lingered.

Allistair's heart clenched as he gazed at Lucifer, feeling the weight of the love and pain in his mate's words. His thumb gently wiped away the tears on Lucifer's cheeks, his other hand running through the dark strands of Lucifer's hair.

"Then don't cry," Allistair whispered, his voice soft yet firm. "I love you, *Mi Alfa.* No matter what happened before, we're here now. Together."

Lucifer looked up, his eyes searching Allistair's face as if trying to etch every feature into his memory. He leaned forward, pressing his forehead against Allistair's, their breaths mingling. "I just… I don't want to hurt you again. You deserve someone gentle, someone better than me."

Allistair frowned, shaking his head slowly. "I don't want someone else. I want you. The good, the bad, everything. You are my mate, Lucifer. Stop thinking that you're not enough for me because you are. I wouldn't be here if I didn't want you."

Lucifer closed his eyes, letting Allistair's words wash over him like a balm to his soul. His hands reached out, wrapping around Allistair's waist, pulling him closer as if fearing he might disappear if he let go. "You're my world, *Amica Mea.* I'll do everything to make sure I don't hurt you or lose you ."

"You won't," Allistair replied, his voice a quiet promise. He pressed a gentle kiss to Lucifer's lips, reassuring him with every touch.

Lucifer pulled away from the kiss, a soft smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "I made breakfast for you, *Amica Mea*. Your favorite," he murmured, his voice softer now, the earlier sadness in his eyes replaced with love.

Allistair's eyes lit up at the mention of food. "Strawberry pancakes with strawberry syrup and egg toast?" he asked, a small smile playing on his lips.

Lucifer nodded, standing from the bed and moving toward the breakfast tray he had left on the table. He returned with the beautifully arranged plates. The pancakes were stacked neatly, drizzled with rich strawberry syrup, the scent of fresh strawberries filling the room. Beside them, perfectly toasted egg bread was golden and crisp, butter melting into every crevice.

"All for you," Lucifer said, placing the tray on the bed in front of Allistair. He sat down beside him, watching with quiet admiration as Allistair's eyes gleamed with happiness. "I remember everything you like."

Allistair picked up a fork, cutting into the soft pancake and taking a bite. The sweetness of the strawberries and the warmth of the pancakes filled his senses, and he closed his eyes, savoring the taste. "Perfect, as always," he said after a moment, looking at Lucifer with deep affection. "Thank you."

Lucifer leaned in and kissed his temple. "I'd do anything for you."

They ate together, enjoying the peaceful moment before the inevitable responsibilities of the day. Once the plates were emptied and the tray cleared away, Lucifer stood and turned towards the massive wardrobe.

"We should get dressed," he said, his tone shifting slightly as the kingly duties returned to the forefront of his mind.

Lucifer, however, turned back toward Allistair. His gaze softened as he pulled out a suit designed specifically for his mate—the one adorned with the delicate rose designs embroidered in silver and gold. "Let me dress you," he said softly.

Allistair blinked, surprised but smiled warmly. "You don't have to—"

"I want to," Lucifer insisted, his voice filled with tenderness. He carefully helped Allistair out of his nightclothes, savoring every moment as if he were preparing a precious gift. He slid the ivory shirt over Allistair's shoulders, taking his time to button it, his fingers brushing gently against Allistair's skin with each movement. The rose designs on the cuffs gleamed under the soft morning light, delicate and elegant.

Lucifer knelt as he guided Allistair into his tailored trousers, his hands steady, reverent in their touch. When Allistair was fully dressed in the ivory suit, adorned with the rose embroidery, Lucifer stood and gently adjusted the lapels. "You're perfect," he whispered, eyes full of adoration as he admired his mate.

Allistair blushed, feeling the depth of Lucifer's affection in every motion. "Thank you," he murmured.

Now, it was Lucifer's turn. He moved toward the wardrobe and retrieved his own kingly attire. His black suit, embroidered with intricate silver designs, shimmered in the light. The golden crest of his rule—a crown entwined with a sword—rested proudly on the chest. He dressed swiftly, his movements confident yet graceful. The polished black boots completed the look, adding to the commanding aura he exuded.

Lucifer stood before Allistair, tall and regal, his presence like a dark storm ready to sweep through the world, yet his gaze softened when it met Allistair's.

"You look radiant," he said, his voice low, filled with admiration.

Allistair smiled softly. "And you look like a king."

They stood side by side, looking into the large mirror that reflected both their figures—the powerful king and his graceful mate, each a perfect complement to the other. Lucifer placed a hand on Allistair's shoulder, his eyes reflecting pride and affection.

"Ready?" Lucifer asked, his tone a mix of confidence and care.

Allistair nodded. "Always."

Together, they stepped out of the room, ready to face the people waiting for them in the south wing's enormous conference hall, united as king and mate, prepared for whatever challenges awaited.

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