I'm The Devil - Chapter 283

Chapter 283: End Of Birthday Celebration

As the celestial celebration wound to its conclusion, the golden glow of the orbs dimmed further, casting the hall in a soft twilight. Guests lingered in small groups, their voices low and filled with the warmth of shared memories and the comfort of familiarity.

Exousia, the radiant host, moved gracefully through the room, her golden gown catching the faint light like liquid sun. Despite the long evening, her posture remained poised, though the faintest weariness tugged at the corners of her smile. She exchanged words with the departing guests, her tone warm and genuine, her hands occasionally brushing an arm or shoulder in a gesture of affection.

Lucifer stood near one of the towering marble columns, his wings partially unfurled as though catching an unseen breeze. His black eyes, still sharp, had softened slightly with the evening’s quiet. He observed the room with a detached grace, his expression enigmatic.

When Exousia approached him, her golden eyes meeting his, a faint smile curved her lips. “Lucifer,” she greeted softly, her voice carrying the weight of a long and meaningful evening.

Lucifer inclined his head, his wings folding neatly against his back as he straightened. “Exousia,” he replied, his tone measured but respectful. “A remarkable evening, as always. You outdo yourself.”

Her smile widened, though a flicker of humility touched her features. “It is not every day one celebrates another year of existence,” she said lightly, though her gaze searched his for something unspoken.

Lucifer’s eyes narrowed faintly, not in malice but with curiosity. “And yet, you carry the weight of eternity so gracefully,” he said, his voice quieter, almost contemplative.

Exousia’s smile softened into something more genuine, her golden eyes shimmering with warmth. “Thank you,” she said simply. Then, after a brief pause, she added, “I meant what I said earlier, Lucifer. You don’t have to carry everything alone.”

For a moment, silence hung between them, the weight of her words lingering in the air. Lucifer’s expression didn’t change, but the faintest flicker of something—perhaps gratitude, perhaps weariness—flashed in his black eyes.

“Perhaps,” he said finally, his voice low but steady. “But some burdens are not meant to be shared.”

Exousia tilted her head slightly, her gaze steady and unyielding. “Even so,” she murmured, her tone gentle but firm, “you are always welcome here.”

Lucifer inclined his head again, this time with a faint smile that barely touched his lips. “I appreciate that,” he said softly, before stepping back. His wings spread slightly, the white feathers catching the dim light as he turned and walked toward the hall’s grand doors.

Ophiel stood near the center of the hall, her silver hair cascading down her back like moonlight. Her sharp eyes scanned the room until they landed on Lucifer’s retreating figure. She hesitated for a moment, her hands clutching the edges of her flowing violet dress, before she moved toward him with quick, determined steps.

“Lucifer,” she called, her voice softer than usual but insistent.

He paused mid-step, his wings stilling as he turned to face her. His black eyes softened slightly as they met her silver gaze.

“I didn’t get to properly say goodbye,” she said, her voice quieter now, tinged with an emotion she rarely allowed herself to show.

Lucifer’s lips curved into a faint smile, one that held both fondness and a trace of melancholy. “Then consider it done,” he said lightly, though his tone carried a warmth that was rare for him.

Ophiel stepped closer, her movements hesitant but purposeful. She reached out, her fingers brushing against his forearm. “Take care of yourself,” she said softly, her gaze searching his for a promise he couldn’t quite give.

“And you,” he replied, his voice steady. “You’ve always been the heart of this family, Ophiel. Don’t let anyone change that.”

Her lips trembled slightly before curving into a small smile. She nodded, stepping back reluctantly as Lucifer turned away and continued toward the door.

Moronuel, leaning casually against a pillar, watched Lucifer’s departure with a faint smirk playing on his lips. His silver eyes glinted mischievously as he crossed his arms. “Well,” he murmured to himself, “that went better than expected.”

Amiel stood nearby, her black eyes narrowing slightly as she observed Lucifer. Her posture was stiff, her arms crossed tightly over her chest. “Always the dramatic exit,” she muttered under her breath, though the corners of her mouth twitched as though fighting a reluctant smile.

Bariel approached Exousia, his broad frame slightly hunched as he scratched the back of his neck. “You throw a mean party, sister,” he said gruffly, his tone filled with awkward affection.

Exousia laughed softly, her golden eyes lighting up as she placed a hand on his arm. “Thank you, Bariel,” she said warmly. “It wouldn’t have been the same without you.”

Coriel, standing apart from the others, watched the interactions with her usual detached calm. Her purple eyes flickered with quiet amusement as she inclined her head toward Exousia. “A memorable evening,” she said softly, her voice low and steady.

As the guests gradually dispersed, Exousia remained near the center of the hall, her golden gaze lingering on the now-empty doorway through which Lucifer had exited. A faint sigh escaped her lips, though her expression remained serene.

The hall grew quieter, the celestial orbs dimming further until only the soft glow of the heavens remained. One by one, the siblings departed, each carrying their own thoughts, their own burdens.

And as the doors finally closed, Exousia stood alone for a moment, her golden gown shimmering faintly in the fading light. She tilted her head back, her gaze fixed on the stars beyond the grand windows, a quiet determination settling over her features.

“Another year,” she murmured to herself, her voice a soft echo in the vast hall. “And so much more to come.”

With that, she turned and began to extinguish the remaining lights, her movements graceful and unhurried as the evening came to its gentle end.