The Next Morning…
Sunlight filtered through the blinds, soft and golden.
Ken stood in front of the mirror, adjusting his collar with a confident smirk. Hair done. Shirt crisp. Cologne subtle but sharp. He looked clean. Smooth. Almost too smooth.
From the couch, Angel raised a brow, watching him while half-wrapped in her blanket.
"…What are you doing?" she asked, voice still groggy.
Ken didn't even turn. "Going on a date. With Dera."
Angel blinked. "…Seriously?"
"She agreed. Which means her and Lucifer? Nothing." He gave a little wink to his reflection, then turned with a grin.
Angel stared at him like he just said the dumbest thing ever. "Of course they had nothing, genius. If they did, you think Lucifer would've let her ride him and you like a damn carousel? Come on. And Francisca would've smelled it from across town."
Ken's smile faltered just a bit.
