"Have you heard yet?" The old woman leaned forward, her voice dropping into a conspiratorial whisper. "Apparently, Linda's son disappeared again when he wandered near the dark forest. The witches took him again!"
"Mm."
"And then a few hours after his disappearance, he reappeared inside their house!"
The man didn't care about the words that the old woman was spouting, his green eyes focused on scanning the rows of red apples on the stall, intent on picking the crunchiest and sweetest ones for his wife.
The liveliness of the market faded into the background as he focused on the one thing that mattered. Her apples.
"Goodness, that boy always drives her mother to insanity, always disappearing and reappearing like nothing had happened," the old woman continued to talk.
The man had picked five apples in total. Shiny, red, and perfect.
"But don't you ever feel curious about the dark forest near the border?" The woman looked up at the man, her hands starting to pack the apples inside a paper bag. "And the children that had been disappearing there always come back unscathed! How curious, really."
"No," the man answered, dry.
The old woman sighed exaggeratedly, deciding to finally stop rambling about the dark forest and the children disappearing, realizing that the man doesn't care.
"How was your wife, young man?" The old woman shifted the conversation, and she could see the man's eyes lighting up slightly. 'Ah, young love'. "Is she doing well?"
"Mhm," the man nodded.
"She'd been craving apples lately, no? You bought some last week, too." The old woman gave him the paper bag of apples, accepting the money that the man had given. As she was giving him his change, she asked, teasingly, "Are you sure she's not pregnant?"
The man paused.
"No, she's not," he answered.
"Aiyah," the old woman sighed once more, holding her head like it was her business to mind their business. "Don't worry, young man. The two of you are still young, it won't take long."
The man didn't deemed that with an answer. He nodded at the old woman before walking away, making sure to pick up bread, peanut butter—his wife's favorite—, a baby pink silk scarf, and a wide hat that he had just seen in a passing but bought because he thought it was better than the hat his wife wears when she helps him with the gardening.
It would protect her from the harsh rays of the sun. It would look pretty on her, too.
The man's lips twitched, almost like a smile. Almost.
The walk back to their house was quiet, only the scrunching of his boots against the dried leaves on the ground. The dark forest—as the villagers had whispered terrifying myths about—was quiet as he entered its proximity. No unnecessary fog that could render a normal person's eyesight blind, no howling of wolves, and just the peaceful chirping of birds.
The forest knew it was him.
In the heart of the forest was their home. A two storey wooden house. Two chairs were placed fondly on the porch, pink tulips—her favorite kind—were delicately scattered around the house, and the wooden windows were opened as if welcoming the breeze of the morning.
The man's eyes softened.
Her presence was laced in every corner of the house, something he couldn't have imagined happening if she hadn't come along.
As he stepped inside the house, it was quiet. No shuffling of slippers inside the house, no humming of a distant tune, and no sense of movement.
The man exited the house and went to the back where he knew his wife would be.
The magnolia tree was beautiful amidst the vibrancy of the grass, blooming with thick waxy petals that open wide like porcelain cups. She loved this tree, and so he had planted it there just to see her face light up whenever her gaze would stray to it.
She looked beautiful, utterly and enticing when she's happy.
The man didn't care if the forest would wound up to be unrealistic, as long as it puts a smile on her face, it doesn't matter.
Under the magnolia tree was a bench, and then there was the vegetable garden, where his wife was kneeling on the dirt, her gloved hands working against the vegetables that had grown bigger than last time.
Azalea.
His wife. His love.
Even amidst the starkness of the sunlight, she didn't look bothered in the least bit. She hadn't even noticed him yet. Not until, the man gently took off her hat and replaced it with the wide hat he bought.
She looked up, surprised, and the man could see the happiness in her brown eyes before her lips bloomed into a lovely smile.
"Luci, you're back," she said, standing up and dusting off her long skirt. She looked up slightly at the wide hat, tilting her head, amused and fond. "You bought this?"
Lucifer, the man, hummed.
"... It's big." Azalea said.
"That was the point."
Azalea huffed.
"Thank you, it's very pretty," She leaned up to kiss his cheek and he leaned closer. She then looked down at his hands, noting the several paper bags. "Anyways, did you buy me some apples?"
"Hm," Lucifer nodded. "And bread, peanut butter, and a scarf," he added.
"Oh," Azalea's eyes widened a tad bit. "A scarf, too?"
"Yes, it was in your favorite color and I thought you'd look pretty in it," he said.
"Thank you."
Azalea smiled, her ears reddening softly. Lucifer looked fondly at it, his hand reaching out to tuck her hair back just so he could see her reddened ears better.
"You're the topic of the village again," he said, his green eyes seeking her brown eyes. "They said you took another child."
Azalea laughed, "Did I?"
"You did," Lucifer nodded.
"They wandered inside the forest," Azalea argued.
"And you took them."
"No," Azalea rolled her eyes playfully. "I accommodated them."
"Accommodated," Lucifer replied flatly.
"Yes, because they left after they were done playing," Azalea said. "That's accommodation."
"Hm," Lucifer could only hum, shrugging. His hand traveled down her spine, resting on the small of her back as he gently guided her. "Let's go inside. It's hot."
Azalea leaned into his shoulder and Lucifer took off the wide hat to kiss the top of her wavy, brown hair. Azalea sighed, leaning further into him.
Lucifer's heart almost melted.
"You know, we're in this together," Azalea said as they entered the house. "If I steal a child, just as the villagers said I did, then you're my accomplice."
Lucifer gave her a flat look, but the subtle twitch of his lips betrayed his amusement. He could never really argue with her, not when she looked this soft and amused, as if the rumors doesn't bother her one bit.
It doesn't. And that made Lucifer's heart throbbed painfully. Because his wife doesn't care about anything outside their home—this forest.
"It's not your fault the children love wandering inside the forest, hm," Lucifer indulges, reaching up to caresses her cheek, his eyes soft as he gazed at her lovely brown eyes. And Azalea's eyes lit up with amusement at his words.
"Right," she agreed, deciding to play along. "They shouldn't blame me."
"Hm," Lucifer hummed in agreement.
Because after all, it wasn't his wife's fault that the children kept seeking refugees inside their forest, and his wife has a kind soul that she would always lead them towards the heart of the forest to play with them.