Summer's head tilted, considering those rules, then narrowed her eyes, as she seemed to be laying out a whole blueprint in front of her eyes and overlaying it with this new knowledge, while her face seemed to go through a whole range of emotions from speculative to impressed to confused to a sort of understanding, and a definite conclusion that she might have some holes to pick at here and there.

"I mean," she said, "they're not bad rules...for, like, flings are whatever, and it's obvious she likes to keep that shit personal; meanwhile, you've got Lucifer who like to flaunt and wear his sex appeal like it's one of his nice suits. That's, like, complete polar opposites, and you're stuck right there in the middle...."

And then, another thought: "Wait, though...thought experiment time, but, like, if you just listened to what Lucifer's apparently insisting on, doesn't that make you just as much his doormat? Honestly, at that point, just do what you want, Seivarden, fuck 'em both. I mean, you have, but...you know what I mean."