[There are a lot of things he's not sure about. Whether or not he wants to be near her as much as possible is not one of them.

The rest, well, he's perfectly keen to ignore until it becomes an issue. That said, if the Detective is concerned about it, then it's an issue. Yes, he's an angel, but that's never particularly been a problem before, and certainly not when it comes to her. It isn't as if she's drawn in by all his magical glamour or any of that nonsense.

Wonderland is also something to think about, but Lucifer fails to see why it should really affect anything between them.]

You're not broken. If anyone's broken between the two of us, it's me.

[Considering it took him thousands of years to develop any emotion outside of amusement and anger, it makes sense that he would feel this way, but it's not something he would have ever admitted to himself, let alone anyone else.]

You saw what I did to my wings. I'm barely an angel anymore, anyway.

[He brushes his fingers through the wisps of hair framing her face, tucking them behind her ears, his eyes moving over her face with a strange reverence.]

That's how we've figured out everything else, isn't it?