[Lucifer doesn't say anything about it. He just takes her wrist gently, and covers her wound with the palm of his other hand. He lets it linger there for a moment, painfully even nauseatingly homesick. She doesn't hurt to touch. She doesn't hurt to look at.
He almost doesn't want to heal her; but then he does, with a soft sigh.]
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He almost doesn't want to heal her; but then he does, with a soft sigh.]