The party was still in full swing, music pounding through the walls and laughter echoing loud enough to make Eliza's head ache. But no matter how hard she tried, she couldn't shake the unease twisting in her stomach. Her eyes kept flicking to the group of rival players leaning against the far wall, their eyes fixed on Lucifer with dark smirks.
Ava nudged her side, raising an eyebrow. "You look like you're about to pass out."
Eliza huffed, crossing her arms. "Not funny. Did you see the way those guys were looking at him?"
"Relax," Ava drawled, taking a sip of her drink. "They're all bark, no bite. Just pissed they lost, that's all."
Eliza bit her lip, gaze drifting to Zach—the rival team's captain. He lounged casually by the snack table, a smug smirk plastered across his face as his friends snickered and whispered around him. One of them shot a glance at Lucifer, eyes glinting with something that made Eliza's blood run cold.
Just then, Lucifer broke away from his teammates, ruffling his hair with that lazy grin of his, and started toward the snack table. Straight toward Zach and his friends.
Eliza's breath hitched. "Oh no. Nonono—"
Before Ava could stop her, she was already pushing through the crowd, heart pounding in her ears. But she was too late.
As Lucifer passed beneath the streamers, Zach gave a subtle nod to one of his friends lurking by the speaker. There was a sudden creak—then—
Splat!
A downpour of thick, sticky red sauce dumped right onto Lucifer's head, splattering down his jersey and dripping onto the floor.
The room went dead silent for a split second—then erupted into chaos. Gasps, laughter, and the sharp click of phones snapping pictures flooded the air. Some students doubled over, howling with laughter, others whispering behind their hands.
Lucifer stood there, frozen, sauce dripping from his hair and down his cheek. His eyes were wide—shock quickly morphing into something darker.
Eliza's heart plummeted. "Oh my God," she breathed, hand flying to her mouth.
Ava grimaced beside her. "Yikes. That's… that's bad."
Zach's laugh cut through the noise—loud and taunting. "Aww, did the big hero have a little accident?" he sneered, arms crossed smugly. His friends roared with laughter, high-fiving each other like they'd just won a championship.
Lucifer blinked, face blank for a heartbeat before his jaw clenched tight. He swiped a hand down his cheek slowly, red staining his fingertips, eyes darkening with a mix of anger and humiliation.
Eliza didn't even think—she stormed forward, shoving past giggling students, eyes blazing. "Are you kidding me?" she snapped, voice sharp enough to cut.
Zach smirked down at her, unbothered. "Relax, it's just a joke. Can't the MVP take a little sauce?"
"Oh, I'll show you sauce—" Eliza lunged, but Ava yanked her back by the hoodie with a sigh.
"Easy, tiger," Ava muttered, rolling her eyes. "Assault's not a good look."
Lucifer finally moved, running a hand through his soaked hair with a huff. A forced, brittle smirk tugged at his lips. "Wow," he drawled, voice dripping with sarcasm. "Real creative, guys. Did you think that up all by yourselves, or did you need a group project?"
A few students snickered, and Zach's smirk twitched, eyes narrowing.
But Lucifer didn't stick around for a comeback. He turned sharply, brushing past Eliza with a muttered, "I'm gonna go wash this off," voice tight enough to snap.
Eliza bit her lip, guilt twisting sharp beneath her ribs. She shot a glare back at Zach's smug grin, rage simmering beneath her skin. Ava sighed, nudging her forward.
"Go," Ava said. "I'll keep an eye on these assholes."
Eliza didn't need to be told twice. She hurried after Lucifer, heart pounding, trying to ignore the whispers and laughter still echoing behind her.
---
The hallway was quieter—almost suffocatingly so. The fluorescent lights buzzed faintly, casting a pale glow that did nothing to soften the tension thrumming in the air. Eliza's sneakers squeaked as she half-jogged to catch up, pulse racing.
She found Lucifer in the nearest bathroom, gripping the sink edge so hard his knuckles had gone white. The faucet was running, water swirling pink as he tried to scrub the sauce from his hair and face.
"Lucifer?" she said softly, stepping into the doorway.
He didn't turn, shoulders stiff. "I'm fine," he muttered, voice strained. "You don't have to—just go back to the party."
Eliza frowned, guilt twisting sharper. She took a hesitant step forward. "But—"
"Eliza," Lucifer snapped, voice raw and cracked at the edges. He stopped short, exhaling hard through his nose, and scrubbed a hand over his face with a frustrated growl. "Just—seriously, go. I don't—"
He cut himself off, jaw clenching, eyes hard and glinting with something too raw to hide.
Eliza's heart ached at the sight—at the tightness in his voice, the way his shoulders trembled faintly. "Lucifer," she murmured, softer now. "It's okay. They're just—stupid jerks with too much free time. Don't let them get to you."
He huffed a bitter laugh, no humor in it. "Right. Easy for you to say when you're not the one covered in marinara."
Eliza bit her lip, guilt flaring hotter. "I know," she said quietly. "But I still—I care, okay?"
His expression faltered—surprise flickering in his eyes before something softer, more vulnerable took its place. "…Oh."
She hesitated, then grabbed a handful of paper towels, wetting them under the faucet. Gently, she reached up, dabbing at a streak of sauce on his cheek. Lucifer stiffened, eyes wide, but didn't pull back—just stared at her with a mix of shock and something warmer.
Eliza's hands were trembling, but she focused on wiping away the mess, biting her lip hard enough to sting. "You look ridiculous," she mumbled, trying to break the tension. "Like some kind of angry spaghetti monster."
A startled laugh escaped him—rough and hoarse, but real. Some of the darkness eased from his eyes.
"Wow," he snorted, voice wobbly. "Thanks, Drama Queen. Really helping my self-esteem here."
She rolled her eyes, cheeks warming, but her heart fluttered at the faint grin tugging at his lips.
Lucifer sighed, some of the tension bleeding from his shoulders. "…Thanks," he muttered, voice low and almost shy. "For, you know… not laughing."
Eliza's cheeks turned scarlet, and she fumbled with the paper towels, glancing away. "Obviously," she mumbled.
Lucifer chuckled, soft and warm, and for a moment—sauce stains and all—the distance between them didn't feel so impossible.
To be continued....