The bell rang, echoing through the cold halls of St. Margret’s High School. Laughter and chatter erupted from classrooms as students rushed out, forming clusters of friends, plans, and noise. But among them walked one silent figure—Mia.

Mia was the kind of girl who could vanish into a crowd without ever being noticed. Small, fragile, with porcelain skin and eyes too soft for a world that hadn’t been kind. Her hair fell like silk over her shoulders, and her voice, when she did speak, barely rose above a whisper. But beauty didn't guarantee love. And Mia knew that better than anyone.

At home, her parents were ghosts in tailored suits—always traveling, always busy. Her mother worked in real estate, her father in finance. They provided her with everything she needed: the latest phone, expensive clothes, private school fees. Everything—except love.

Their absence echoed louder than words. They never asked how she felt. Never noticed the sadness in her eyes. They simply assumed she was “quiet,” not knowing she cried herself to sleep, buried under soft sheets in a room too big, too empty.

Her siblings, older and always competitive, barely acknowledged her existence. Her relatives called during holidays only to ask how her grades were. No one asked if she was okay.

At school, she was an easy target. Too quiet, too pretty, too alone. Girls whispered behind her back, boys pulled cruel pranks. Her books would go missing, gum found stuck to her seat, notes passed with mock declarations of love that ended in laughter. But she never told. Not once. She just smiled weakly and carried on.

Until that one day.

It was a rainy Tuesday when she took shelter in the school library. It was one of the few places where she could escape. The smell of old paper comforted her more than any human ever had. Rows of books towered above her, heavy with secrets.

She was drawn to a dark corner, a shelf half-hidden by an out-of-order sign. Curiosity, or something deeper, made her reach past the sign, her fingers brushing over a thick, ancient book. Its cover was cracked leather, etched with unfamiliar symbols. It didn’t belong to any of the school’s cataloged books. It felt... forbidden.

She opened it slowly, and a shiver passed through her. Inside were handwritten notes in ink long faded, diagrams, strange texts—and a page that looked newer than the rest. A sigil.

There was something hauntingly beautiful about it. The caption beneath read: “To summon him who walks between worlds, speak with blood and fire. Make your wish. But know, all deals bear weight.”

Mia's heart thudded. Was it real? Could it be real? A part of her, the part that had cried in silence for years, whispered: Try it.

That night, in her room while rain tapped gently at the windows, Mia set up the ritual. Candles flickered, their flames dancing with each tremor of her hand. She copied the sigil exactly, pricked her finger, and let a single drop of blood fall into the circle. Then she whispered the words written in the book, her voice shaking.

At first, nothing.

Then—the candles blew out all at once.

Darkness.

Silence.

And then… he appeared.

A figure formed within the shadows. Tall, impossibly graceful. Eyes like molten gold in the dark, gleaming with something ancient and powerful. Black wings arched behind him, dissolving into smoke as he stepped forward.

Mia stumbled back, her breath catching in her throat.

“Who dares summon me?” His voice was deep, velvet and thunder. “Child of man… are you prepared to offer what is required?”

She was terrified, trembling, heart racing. But she didn’t run.

“I…” she looked up at him, her voice quivering. “I want people to love me. I want to matter to someone.”

Lucifer studied her, intrigued. “Love,” he echoed, as if the word tasted foreign. “You summon the Prince of Hell for something so… fragile?”

She nodded. “I don’t care what it costs.”

For a moment, he said nothing. Then, slowly, he smiled—not cruel, not mocking. But... amused.

“So be it,” he said. “A deal is struck.”

The sigil flared with light, and in a flash, it was done.

From that night onward, Lucifer stayed. Not as a looming demonic force, but as a presence—watching, guiding. He found himself returning to her again and again, not because he had to… but because something about her drew him in.

He took the form of a human—young, handsome, with dark hair and a quiet, protective aura. He enrolled in her school under the name Kai.

When Mia walked the halls now, no one dared touch her. The bullying stopped. The girls who used to mock her now smiled at her. The boys who pulled cruel jokes turned shy in her presence. Something had changed. But she knew—it wasn’t them. It was him.

Kai always sat beside her in class. He walked her home. He listened when she spoke. He noticed everything—the sadness in her eyes, the way her hands trembled when she was anxious, the silent pain she carried.

And slowly, without realizing it, Lucifer—Kai—began to feel something he had never known.

Affection.

One evening, Mia fell ill. Her body ached, her temperature rising dangerously high. Her parents were, as usual, out of town for a week-long business trip. She lay in bed, feverish, alone—until Kai appeared.

He didn’t ask permission. He simply stepped in and cared for her. Wiped her forehead, made her soup, sat by her side through the night. When she whimpered in her sleep, he whispered soft words in a language long forgotten. And when she opened her eyes, she smiled weakly at him.

“You stayed,” she murmured.

He reached out, gently brushing her hair from her face. “I’ll always stay.”

For the first time in Mia’s life, someone had said those words—and meant them.

The morning sunlight filtered gently through Mia’s curtains, painting golden stripes across her pale cheeks. She stirred slightly, her body still weak from the fever that had gripped her the day before. But this time, she wasn’t waking up alone.

Kai was there.

He sat beside her bed, eyes focused on her as if she were the center of the world. His features, so perfect they bordered on unreal, held a rare softness. His arms were folded, but his posture was alert—guarded, protective.

Mia blinked slowly. “You’re still here,” she whispered, her voice raspy.

Kai nodded. “You slept through the night. Your fever broke a few hours ago.”

Her brows furrowed faintly. “Why… why are you doing all this?”

He looked away for a moment, as if searching for the right answer. “Because you called me,” he said at last. “Because we made a deal. And because—” he hesitated, “—because no one else did.”

There was silence. Then Mia sat up slowly, wincing at the ache in her limbs. “You’re the Devil. You don’t do things out of kindness.”

Kai smiled faintly. “You summoned Lucifer. But what you got is more complicated than a name.” He stood and walked to her window, pulling back the curtains. “I’ve done terrible things. I’ve destroyed, tempted, corrupted. But when I look at you…” he paused, eyes narrowing thoughtfully, “I don’t see someone to ruin. I see someone I want to protect.”

Mia looked down, her cheeks warming.

She wanted to ask why. Why her, when there were billions of others more interesting, more powerful, more beautiful?

But deep inside, she already knew. Because she was the only one who ever looked at him—not with fear or worship, but with honest, raw vulnerability.

And maybe, just maybe… he needed that.

—

The days passed quietly after that.

Kai became part of her daily life, a constant shadow who didn’t demand space but gave it when she needed it. At school, his presence transformed everything. No one dared bully Mia anymore. In fact, they started treating her like someone who mattered.

It was strange, surreal even.

Classmates asked her to join their group projects. Girls who used to ignore her now complimented her hair or outfit. The cafeteria no longer felt like a battlefield. It was like someone had flipped a switch—and in truth, someone had.

Kai never said what he did, but Mia wasn’t naïve. She could feel it in the way people’s eyes glazed over slightly when they looked at him, as if they couldn’t help but like him, respect him… fear him.

He was still Lucifer, after all.

But with her, he was different.

Every night, when she came home, he would already be waiting. He’d do small things—cook her simple meals, help her with homework, ask about her day. She began to laugh more. To speak. To feel.

And each time she smiled, Kai felt something stir inside him. A warmth that didn’t belong to Hell.

He found himself watching her in quiet moments—when she tucked her hair behind her ear absentmindedly, when she hummed while solving math problems, when she fell asleep on the couch with a book pressed to her chest.

He had seen empires rise and fall. He had witnessed the darkest of sins. But nothing… nothing had ever looked as pure to him as the sight of Mia curled up with a peaceful expression on her face.

He told himself it was nothing.

Just curiosity. Just the novelty of a girl who wasn’t afraid of him.

But the truth clawed deeper each day.

He was falling for her.

—

One afternoon, a week after her fever, Mia stood in front of her mirror, brushing her hair slowly. She wore a light blue dress, simple but beautiful. It had been sitting in her closet untouched for over a year. Today, she finally felt like wearing it.

Kai watched from her bed, pretending to read.

“You look beautiful,” he said casually.

Mia turned, surprised. “You think so?”

Kai shrugged, though his gaze lingered. “I don’t say things I don’t mean.”

She blushed, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. “You’re… not what I expected.”

He raised an eyebrow. “A monster?”

“A destroyer,” she corrected softly. “But you’re more like a guardian.”

He didn’t respond for a while. Then he said quietly, “Do you think monsters can change?”

Mia looked at him for a long moment. “Yes. I think anyone can, if they want to.”

Something in his expression cracked—just slightly. “Then maybe… I want to.”

—

That night, Mia lay in bed with the book still hidden under her mattress. She hadn’t dared open it again. It felt like a living thing, full of power she didn’t understand. But she knew it had changed her life.

Because it brought him.

She glanced toward her window. As always, Kai was sitting on the balcony railing, staring up at the stars. The moonlight touched his face, outlining him in silver.

He looked almost human.

Almost.

“Kai?” she called softly.

He turned. “Yes?”

“Are you happy here… with me?”

He hesitated, then stepped inside, sitting on the edge of her bed. “Yes,” he said. “More than I’ve ever been.”

Mia reached out, her fingers brushing his hand. His skin was warm—strangely warm for someone who had once ruled fire and ash.

“I don’t want you to leave,” she whispered.

He looked at her then, really looked. “I won’t,” he said. “Even if the world burns, Mia, I’ll stay with you.”

And in that moment, Mia didn’t care if he was a devil or an angel.

Because for the first time in her life… someone chose her.

Morning sunlight danced across Mia’s floor, painting golden paths across the wooden panels. The air smelled faintly of vanilla and warmth—remnants of Kai’s cooking from earlier. He was already downstairs, as always, making breakfast like it was the most natural thing for the Devil to do.

Mia sat at her vanity, brushing out her long dark hair, the events of the past few weeks replaying in her mind like a fragile dream. She still couldn’t believe it—that she’d summoned Lucifer, and instead of being dragged to Hell or cursed forever, she had somehow… found a friend. No, more than a friend. Kai was her protector, her constant, her only real anchor in a world that had never noticed her before.

And yet, something inside her twisted when she thought too hard about it.

He wasn’t human. Not really.

Even now, when he smiled, there was a certain knowing behind his eyes, something vast and ancient that reminded her he wasn’t from this world. But still—when he looked at her, it was never with condescension or power. It was… soft. Gentle. As if she was the only thing that mattered.

As she walked down the stairs, she found him exactly where she expected: in the kitchen, apron on, flipping pancakes with practiced ease.

“You cook now?” she asked, teasing.

Kai glanced over his shoulder, smirking. “I’ve done far more complicated things. Pancakes are child’s play.”

Mia laughed, sitting at the kitchen island. “Next thing I know, you’ll be knitting sweaters and vacuuming carpets.”

“I’ve considered it,” he said seriously. “Dust is surprisingly persistent.”

She snorted into her orange juice.

He set a plate in front of her—fluffy pancakes stacked neatly, strawberries on the side, a dusting of powdered sugar like snow. It looked like something out of a magazine.

“You know,” she said, cutting into the stack, “you make being the Prince of Hell seem… pretty domestic.”

He leaned on the counter, arms crossed. “Would you rather I showed up with horns and a pitchfork?”

“I don’t know. That might be funny.”

Kai raised an eyebrow. “Careful. I could still bring out the full theatrics.”

Mia smiled at him—really smiled—and something inside him stuttered. He looked away first, the tips of his ears turning faintly red.

She pretended not to notice.

—

At school, the changes were more obvious than ever.

People talked to her. Sat with her. Invited her to things. She wasn’t invisible anymore. And it wasn’t just because of Kai—though his presence certainly helped. There was something about Mia now. A quiet confidence had bloomed in her, and others were drawn to it.

But even as she smiled in hallways and exchanged hellos, there was only one person who truly saw her.

“Kai!” someone called across the courtyard.

Mia turned to see a group of girls waving him over. He offered them a polite nod but didn’t move.

“They really like you,” she said as they walked toward their next class.

Kai shrugged. “They don’t know who I am.”

“And if they did?”

“They’d run screaming.”

Mia stopped walking. “Do you ever… wish you could be normal? Just a boy in school. No Hell, no powers, no past?”

He considered that. “No,” he said honestly. “But I do wish I could be normal for you.”

She didn’t know what to say to that. Her heart clenched, and she looked away.

—

That evening, after dinner, they sat in the living room. The TV was on, but neither of them really watched it.

Mia sat curled up on one side of the couch, a blanket around her shoulders. Kai sat on the other, one arm draped over the backrest, his body angled toward her.

“You’re quiet,” he said after a while.

“I was just thinking.”

“Dangerous pastime,” he teased.

She smiled weakly. “Do you think the deal… changed me? The way people see me?”

Kai hesitated. “Yes. A little. But you’re still you, Mia. The deal didn’t create your worth—it only removed the blindfolds from their eyes.”

She hugged her knees. “I just… I don’t want to be loved because of magic. I want someone to love me because of me.”

Kai watched her in silence. “I already do.”

Her breath hitched. She looked up at him, startled.

“What?”

He sat forward. “I love you, Mia. I don’t know when it happened. Maybe it was the first night you looked at me without fear. Or maybe it was when you smiled in your sleep. But I know what this feeling is. And it’s real.”

Tears welled in her eyes, unbidden.

“No one’s ever said that to me,” she whispered.

“Then they were fools.”

She let out a shaky laugh, wiping her cheek. “You’re really serious, huh?”

“I am Lucifer,” he said with a grin. “I don’t lie.”

Mia looked down at her hands. “I’m scared.”

“Of me?”

“Of losing you.”

He moved closer, gently taking her hands in his. “You summoned me into your world. But it’s you who pulled me into your heart. And I’m not leaving.”

She leaned forward, resting her forehead against his chest. “Don’t break me, Kai. Please.”

His arms wrapped around her like a fortress. “Never.”

—

Later that night, long after she’d fallen asleep on the couch with her head on his lap, Kai sat in silence. His fingers brushed her hair absently, eyes distant.

He knew the balance was fragile. That his presence here broke every law of heaven and hell. He knew others would notice soon—those above, and worse, those below.

But he also knew this:

If the world tried to take Mia from him, he would burn it all to ash.