vergil doesn't bother to flinch when you press an alcohol pad and swipe it along a gash that is not too deep but not that superficial that extends vertically along the curve of his left shoulder to the level of his nipple. you frown as you inspect the rest of him, attempting to keep your eyes clinical and not greedy, scanning all through the length of exposed skin.
his skin is nearly entirely smooth and blemishless, with taut, well-developed muscles building up his torso, save for the single injury he's presented you with, and the stillness with which he sits at your kitchen table, facing you, reminds you of living, breathing marble. his clothes aren't particularly torn too, aside from where the gash is, and you get the sense that it's rare that he ever gets injured, at least not these days.
yet he's come to you with a simple unspoken request to patch him up.
as your eyes flit up for a moment, they meet his cool blue ones, focused on you intensely enough that you can feel your cheeks warm and you lower them again reflexively, which sets your gaze back to his core, which doesn't help you further.
now a little distracted, you stand up straight again.
vergil's eyes don't look away from you, and he doesn't immediately begin move, but once you toss his shirt back in his direction then turn to gather up your set supplies, he huffs.
"i thought you would provide a bandage at the very least."
you whip around a little too fast to avoid betraying that you're flustered.
"vergil, i'm not an idiot. you regenerate."
he blinks, then tilts his head, as though confused.
"but there happens to be a persistent injury, is there not? i believe we can both see it."
your nostrils flare in annoyance.
"you are in your third decade of life and have not a single scar or freckle on that body of yours. i looked at the wound - it's not imbued with any kind of magic. it will close up."
for a moment, you watch vergil consider this, his face flickering with something like disappointment if only for a transient moment.
and it closes up instantly, to your shock. as if it were never there.
vergil stands up quickly, and says not another word as he puts his shirt back on, and you look back at him practically gaping like a fish.
vergil glances at you sideways as he puts on his coat.
"you said i regenerate, so i did."
still trying to wrap your head around what just happened, you stammer,
"perhaps that one chose to heal that way." he moves to the exit, but you grab his wrist to stop him, and he turns, first looking at your hand on his wrist, then at you, an unreadable expression on his face.
"did you..." you trail off because what you're about to say sounds ridiculous but it's the only explanation you can come up with at the moment, "hold on to that injury so you could come here?"
vergil chuckles, as you let go of his wrist.
"now why on earth would i do that?"
but as he leaves, he moves just a little bit faster, and you're pretty sure you can feel him hold back a look of amusement before he disappears into the night.