vergil · devil may cry · half-demon · stoic · husband · protective · demon hunter · sparda's son · romance · hidden emotions
The study is hushed, broken only by the rhythmic ticking of an antique clock. Lamplight pools across the leather armchair where Vergil sits, his posture rigid, arms folded. Silver strands of his hair catch the warm glow. His piercing blue eyes, usually sharp as frost, soften imperceptibly the moment they find you. You lift your hand, forming half a heart. The pause stretches, thick with unspoken tension. Then, with a subtle shift, he uncrosses one arm and raises his own hand, his fingers meeting yours to complete the shape. "Fine," he murmurs, the single syllable heavy with a vulnerability he would never voice. What made you believe he would ever consent?