A few days later, the school announced an upcoming basketball tournament, and the excitement buzzed through the halls. Naturally, Lucifer was at the center of it all—team captain, star player, and entirely too smug about it. Practice started ramping up to an almost ridiculous level, which meant Eliza ended up babysitting him more than usual—not that she really minded.
The gym was a mix of squeaking sneakers, basketballs thudding against the court, and the steady murmur of voices. Lucifer weaved effortlessly between players, calling out plays, eyes sharp and focused. His sleeves were shoved up, revealing lean arms littered with faint bruises and fresh scrapes from earlier matches. His dark hair clung to his forehead, damp with sweat, and his grin was a little too cocky for Eliza's peace of mind.
Eliza sat cross-legged on the bleachers, textbooks sprawled out in front of her. She was supposed to be studying, but her eyes kept drifting back to the court, following the way his shirt clung to his back and the way his jaw set with determination. Her heart betrayed her, thudding traitorously whenever he laughed or shot her a grin between plays.
She scribbled out his homework with dramatic sighs, muttering about how he owed her a lifetime supply of fries for this.
"Finished yet, Princess ?" Lucifer smirked, dribbling a ball with one hand as he sauntered over, eyes glinting with amusement.
"Keep talking and I'm writing you a detention slip," Eliza huffed, rolling her eyes but unable to fight the small smile tugging at her lips.
Lucifer chuckled, ruffling her hair with a sweaty hand just to mess with her. "You love me."
Eliza swatted his hand away, cheeks warm. "In your dreams, idiot."
She even started carrying a small first-aid kit in her bag—not that she'd ever admit it. But Lucifer was reckless and came back bruised and scraped more often than not. Eliza would be there, dabbing disinfectant on his knuckles, scolding him with a mix of fondness and exasperation.
"Ow—easy!" Lucifer grumbled, wincing as she pressed a cotton ball to a fresh scrape.
"Maybe don't throw yourself across the court like a maniac," Eliza shot back, brows furrowing in concentration.
He chuckled, watching her with a stupidly soft expression that made her heart flip. "What would I do without you?" he teased.
"Fail math and die of an infection, probably," she muttered, refusing to look up as her cheeks warmed.
Lucifer smirked, clearly enjoying the pink dusting her cheeks. "You're blushing," he teased.
"Am not!" Eliza shot back, voice high and defensive.
"Are too," he laughed, eyes twinkling. "Admit it, you're hopeless without me."
"Oh, please," Eliza scoffed, shoving him lightly. "You're the one who would flunk math without me."
"Fair point," he conceded with a lazy grin, stretching out beside her on the bleachers. Their shoulders brushed, and Eliza's breath hitched, heart stuttering stupidly.
Naturally, some girls from their class were not happy about it. They hovered around the gym, whispering and giggling, eyes flickering between Lucifer and Eliza with a mix of jealousy and longing—like they wished they could switch places. It was almost hilarious—the way they sighed dreamily whenever Lucifer laughed or wiped sweat off his face with the hem of his shirt.
One particularly bold girl approached, twirling a strand of hair around her finger. "Hey, Lucifer," she purred, batting her lashes. "Great game today! I, um, made these cookies for the team. Thought you might like some?"
She thrust a neatly wrapped bag of cookies at him, cheeks pink.
Lucifer blinked, clearly startled but polite as always. "Oh, uh, thanks. That's cool of you," he said, offering a friendly smile.
Eliza's stomach twisted, fingers curling into her sleeves. She pretended to be very interested in her notes, but her eyes flickered over, watching the interaction from the corner of her eye.
"Wanna share?" Lucifer nudged the bag towards her, eyes bright and teasing.
Eliza sniffed. "They're for you, not me," she muttered, trying to ignore the prick of jealousy.
Ava, who'd appeared out of nowhere, snorted. "Uh-huh. Someone's sulking."
Eliza's head snapped up, eyes wide. "Am not!" she squeaked.
Lucifer chuckled, shaking his head. "You're so weird," he teased, but his eyes were soft, fond.
And that stupid, traitorous part of her heart soared at the way he was looking at her.
As practice wrapped up, they ended up walking home together, the sky fading from soft pink to a deeper blue. Lucifer rambled about the tournament, eyes bright and animated, and Eliza just listened, nodding along, though she barely caught a word. Her heart was too busy tripping over itself, her mind replaying that stupid grin and the way his eyes crinkled at the edges when he laughed.
When they reached her house, Lucifer paused, shuffling his feet. "Hey, um," he started, rubbing the back of his neck. "Thanks for waiting around all the time. You don't have to, you know."
Eliza's heart lurched painfully. "I-I don't mind," she mumbled, twisting a strand of hair around her finger. "I mean, someone has to make sure you don't die of stupidity."
He snorted, ruffling her hair again. "You're such a nerd," he teased, but his eyes were warm, smile soft.
Eliza's cheeks flushed, and she swatted his hand away, heart pounding. "Shut up."
But that night, staring up at her ceiling, Eliza's heart ached with everything she couldn't say. Because no matter how many times he smiled at her, ruffled her hair, or draped an arm over her shoulders, it was always just friendly—never more.
And the worst part? He didn't even realize how much it killed her.
She rolled over with a groan, burying her face in her pillow. She was pathetic—completely, hopelessly pathetic. But even then, her heart betrayed her, fluttering at the memory of his grin, his eyes, his voice, until she drifted off to sleep with a stupidly soft smile on her lips.
To be continued....