@durativo continued from HERE
He wasn’t waiting for his dad. Nope. Not at all. V wasn’t at all just idly cleaning out the rifle his father had given him on his 18th birthday, making sure all the parts were still in tip top shape (and not smushed into bits because he had asked Nightmare to carry it, because damnit dad, a sniper rifle doesn’t fit my aesthetics, and no, I’m keeping it! ). And V definitely did not have Shadow just lurking about in mini-cat form to alert him when his father arrived home.
So when he heard the door open, V did not rush to exit his bedroom, and he was certainly not just dropping Tharmas (the rifle) as he stood. (But he certainly was wearing a shirt. Just a plain black shirt, and not the embarrassing things that his dad was insistent on buying - V would much rather be a walking advertisement to a pizza chain than wear one of dad’s gifts.)
He made his way to the railing, a half grin on his face as he leaned over, giving a wave. “I had thought, father, that I was your only son - unless, I suppose, you couldn’t control yourself and I’ve got a baby sibling wandering around without my notice.“ V laughed, before making his way down to the main floor, all the while keeping his grip on the railings. “How was work? Had any fun?“
