crimsxnrebellion:
[ X ] “I wouldn’t miss it for the world…Blondie.” Lips quirked in a quiet smile; how long had it been since he used that nickname for her? Five, ten years? Maybe more. A teasing little quip made when she stepped into his office, bright, baby blue eyes determined, if not a bit nervous. She wanted his help, and he had given it, mostly for the money, a minor bit due to an inability to say no to such a cute face.
“Not the anniversary of the day we first met.”
The caress to his cheek by a gentle–fragile–hand was more than welcomed by the hunter, though his heart twisted and tightened briefly as she lost her strength. He watched her small form fall back onto starch white pillows. These visits were always incredibly bittersweet. He despised the need to keep her here, isolated from the world. From him. But the chance, any chance at all, long or short, to see her lovely face, to hold her even if only briefly, elated him more than he thought such a prospect ever could.
But, by the same token, he hated to see her this way. Her sickness had begun to take too much of a toll on her a few months ago. Even before that, he had watched her age, slowly weakening. Her fragility often deterred him from even touching her, no matter how much he wanted to. Unlike her, he hardly aged, a perk of the demonic blood running through his veins, many would agree. Though to him it was a curse. The pain of watching the woman he loved slowly deteriorate, and, with all his power, unable to do anything about it, drove him mad. A deep, dull ache. Constantly present. Dread for the day he would eventually have to face.
Leaning down, he pressed a light kiss to her forehead, gentle hands wresting the crimson chrysanthemums–her favorite–from hers. He did not take them far, only to the vase of water on her bedside table. A splash of color in an almost otherwise bland room.
He abandoned the chair left for visitors entirely in favor of the empty space just at her side. He placed his hands on top of hers. He brought one to his lips, pressing a gentle kiss to each of her knuckles.
“It’s been too long…I’m sorry.”
——{ △△△ }— “DON’T BE.”
his affections have only grown sweeter as he’s softened over the years, not that zelda is complaining; he hasn’t changed much but has tempered with time, even if every once in a while zelda regrets having forgotten how badly he outwits her, in some conversations. though her mind drifts and wanders backwards in time for those few moments, the touch of his hands keeps her present, and that of his lips on her skin pulls her back.
“DON’T BE,” she repeats, softer now, and the subtle shift of his tone pains her for that brief moment. “i understand, dante, i don’t want to be a burden. the business is more busy these days than it used to be...”
despite everything, his own assurances mostly, she can’t help but feel... feel like she’s restraining him. slowing him down. a roadblock in a life that would be otherwise far too fast and dangerous to accommodate someone like her — it’s a thought she’s held to some varying degree ever since they were officially ‘a thing’ and these days it worries her how often it crosses her mind...
“HOW LONG DO you have today?” she’s almost... timid as she asks. there’s one answer she both fears and hopes for, because once he stays for too long he gets that look in his eye, that pity and fear and concern, emotions she never wants to see him wear and yet they wouldn’t be there if he... “my sisters said they would visit, sometime today, with the nieces. i don’t think you’ve met them...”
they know of her, of course they do; her sisters explained to their children the nature of the family and where they all came from at some point. but what would they say about him? even she didn’t have the slightest clue.
