"Is he, though?" Lucifer reached out, lightly patting Gabriel's cheek before grabbing his jaw.
He'd never had the best impulse control. Some of it could be blamed on his nature. Things like selflessness and empathy were better left to humans, who were given such weaknesses. Lucifer did things according to his whims. He didn't suffer indignity and he certainly didn't care if he left a trail of bodies in his wake.
But he'd been softer, once, before the Mark twisted him beyond repair, before anger and bitterness and thousands of years of imprisonment had damaged him. Gabriel remembered a brother worth saving, surely, but was any of that left?
"Because I would love to think he's screwing with me, pitting brother against brother, because that's an asshole thing to do."