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Clio | Κλειω (ephemerist) wrote in nevermore_logs,

Clio wished she could give Will a grateful look. She wished she could offer him comfort. She wished she could give him anything, but she didn't dare. She didn't even risk reaching her foot out under the table to find his. One false move and Lucifer could take Will away from her.

"What a heartfelt review," Lucifer grumbled. "And this for the muse who used to make people famous. Didn't you have a daughter a few years ago? Maybe she's better-"

Clio's eyes flashed then, because fear for herself and Will and everyone else in this restaurant could freeze her in place, but fear for Ella was all action. She reached out and slapped Lucifer across the face, before freezing again, unable to believe she'd done it.

Lucifer chuckled. "Nothing to see here, folks!" he said, to the few people who had even noticed, and turned to look. Then he scooted his chair very closely to Clio, and he laid his hand on her leg. "You stay right over there, meathead," he said to Will. "Now. Clio. Lift up your dress. Come on. Under the table cloth."

"Please-" Clio whispered again, and Lucifer still thought she was talking to him.

"You hit me in the face, Clio. There are consequences." He lifted the tablecloth so it sort of draped in Clio's lap, obscuring her bottom half. "Lift up. Your fucking. Dress."

Clio locked eyes with Will, her hands balled into fists on the table, one very, very close to her knife. Lucifer was looking at her legs, so she glanced at the knife and back at Will. Asking permission. Making sure he was okay with the consequences if she took that knife and jammed it into Lucifer's hand. They could be killed, or both of them arrested- Or they could hurt Lucifer and hope he was too annoyed to take it out on them, and try to explain the situation (leaving out the immortal bits) to the establishment afterwards.