It appears neither of them would come to an agreement when it revolved around Vergil; the Patriarch of their household. Part of Rose began to wonder if this sort of thing was inevitable in families: maybe young men felt threatened by their fathers, so they took to leaving the home and spreading their wings elsewhere, even places their parents had previously barred them from. But surely he had to of understood it was for the best, right? All this hiding and being isolated from the rest of the world was no punishment, instead, it was a safeguard to protect them from political warfare of both the demons, Dante, and humans. “ You wouldn’t feel its so sporadic if you stopped challenging your father on every little thing. What did Eliza tell you before? ‘Not all battles are worth waging?’ ”
Now there was quite a sight: his mother quoting a human? Then again she seemed to have a very contradictory opinion when it came to the mortal race: the ones that served in their household she tolerated and even spoke to, while those on the outside? Rose acted as if they didn’t even exist.
‘ I’m not asking you to understand.
What has meaning to me doesn’t have to be the same for you. ’
The ancient Nephilim could feel a growl trying to rise from the back of her throat, reverberating within her ribcage, lungs, and heart: shaking her very soul to explode in a tantrum-like style that was practically signature to her. Yet she held back the outburst with skill, not even a flinch of the brow or twitch of the lower lip, instead, she took a deep breath and accepted that he was right, and he was: she didn’t have to agree or understand his point of view but that didn’t give her license to attempt to control his life or scream him down. What kind of mother did that anyway? Her own had and Rose swore she would never tread the same path, that she would be a better woman than the demon whose soul now rested in her weapon: Datura; trapped at her daughter’s mercy, just as she had held her daughter hostage since the day she was born.
Hesitantly the smaller woman approached her taller son, spiked heels clicking on the cobblestone for three or four steps before she was just at his front, annoyed that he kept diverting his eyes everywhere but to her when they spoke. Rose felt it was him trying to further detach from her, to make it easier when he inevitably left for good – she wasn’t sure she was ready for that type of situation but it was clear he did not care: she was going to either concede to it now or later on… or maybe never. Pushing on the very tips of her feet she reached for his soft face, elegant fingers smoothing over his cheekbones and eased into his snowy tresses, gently urging him to look her in the eye. “ Please, look at me. ”
“ Let’s forget all this nonsense about your father and humans. You’re leaving so often and I never get to see you anymore, you don’t want to do things with me anymore. ” What a hard lesson for the young mother to learn: you could not hold your children forever. “ You don’t have to leave the house, you can stay and go like you always do. Even if you hate us, even if–… we still love you, Nero. Say what you want about your father but I know he loves you, too. And me, I–.. I would kill for any of you. I would die for you. ”
he was just barely able to disguise the grunt as she cradled his face - eventually sighing and glancing down upon her with those vibrant, strong blues of his. it was no secret his mother was a loose-cannon ; brimming with anger and frustration one moment, and attempting to dote on him the next. it was oft more confusing than not, but, he’d learned to accept it. “ i never said i hated either of you. “ he’d murmur in response, breathing a faint sigh as he loosely gripped his shoulder with his hand, absently kneading into tense muscle. he was still worked up ; but it would dissipate.
“ i’ve been leaving so often because i have a job to do. kat and dante can’t handle the entirety of hell by themselves, mother. “ he wasn’t entirely sure how true that was ; dante was capable. beyond capable, actually. but he didn’t want to face a time where he had to find out exactly what dante’s limits were ... which is why he opted to help out, in the first place. but that was beside the point, now. this wasn’t about dante, nor kat. it was about nero and his desire to grow - and his mother’s inability to accept that. she still saw him as a child - as her baby boy. that was what drove him away, more than anything. he was just as strong as dante ; just as strong as his father. he didn’t need to be protected anymore.
“ but ... that still doesn’t mean we can’t do anything. “ he’d eventually offer, deciding to reason with her instead of continuing with the stoic persona. he knew he’d eventually cave, anyway. he usually did when it came to them - minus vergil. the two of them were far more alike that he’d ever admit, thus a lot of their arguments were followed by silence. a long, stagnant silence, until the both of them eventually ‘ forgot ’ about it.
of course, nero never forgets. he just decided to call bygones bygones. with a small sigh, the youth would push himself away and move to flop down onto one of the many lavish, velvety couches, kicking his legs up and propping his head against his palms. he could delay his devil hunting for a little while, he supposed. just long enough to tide his mother over for the day. “ what’d you have in mind, then? dante’s gonna be real pissed i’m putting off our strip-club escapades again. “ a jest, of course. but she didn’t know that - hell, she’d already believed dante was the worst influence in the world for him, as it were.
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