Dante & Vergil caring for their s/o pretending to be fine on a low-energy/emotionally exhausted day - Dante Chapter
Pairings: Dante x Reader
Summary: You could always expertly pretend everything was alright - you couldn't, however, run for too long from the eyes of your lover. Even if you didn't want to worry him, you were the easiest book for him to read.
Restrictions: Things are superficially mentioned and implied. Your job involves children and teens being kidnapped, and the main culprits this time... Are humans - hence your emptiness and exhaustion. There's no more detail other than that, but I do think a warning is always nice if you want to avoid it.
Authorâs Notes: I've been feeling horribly drained and empty from watching a few news and seeing some cases that, honestly, feels like my soul has left my body. This is 1st part of me coping with that in writing, so I do hope it helps other people too.
Also: I was listening to I'll Be Your Home on repeat writing this, and it shows. Dante has been hitting me with feels for a while now, and I'll make it everyone's problem :)
Vergil version will be up with the same name with the added "Vergil Chapter" after it - I just haven't finished it yet. Halfway through it ;)
Dante
If there was one thing in this life Dante was very good at â and he was proficient in lots of things â that would be the ability to tell with a certainty when your vibe was off.
âPfff, y/n vibe beinâ off? Whatâs that now? 70âs hippie new age stuff? Vibe chekinââŚ?â Nero made some waves with his fingers while making his voice a little spookier, poking fun at Dante the first time he absentmindedly mentioned something was wrong with your vibe.
As always, Dante shrugged it off, casually sighing.
âHey, kid, thatâs how we used to say in my time.â And of course, he wouldnât miss the opportunity of poking some fun back at Nero. âGimme a break, will ya? But yeah, somethinâs off. Betâcha can feel that with your girl too.â
âKyrie? What, likeâŚ?â
Dante would always appreciate how the simple mention of Kyrie could make Nero go from 100 to 0 in the span of a second. He could be dressed as a clown: simply by saying her name, Nero would immediately turn mindful and seriously focused.
That, in Danteâs book, was one of the best indicators Nero would never follow the same path as his father.
âYa know. Bet she has days when she tells ya everythinâs alright, but you can feel somethinâ. In the way she talks, in the way she moves. How her shoulders are slightly tighter, how her brows look like they never relax, how her hands move around nervously, almost shakinâ.â As Dante described, both uncle and nephew didnât exchange looks, but in their minds they could almost see everything he was talking about â each with their respective partners. âIf you ask, sheâll smile and brush it off, âcause she doesnât wanna worry you. Butâcha know somethinâ ainât right, and with only a glance you knowâŚâ
âHer vibe is off.â Nero looked back at Dante, with the man flashing him a quick smile and a wink, glad his nephew caught up. âDamn. Makes sense, I know whatâcha talkinâ âbout. And I hate it, thanks.â
âYou gotta better way to describe it?â Dante let out a hearty laugh, opening his arms. âBe my guest, come up with somethinâ better!â
âI⌠Tsk!â Nero almost rolled his eyes, already shaking his head. âYou just explained it to me! I canât make somethinâ up so fastâŚ!â
ââCause ya know the vibe is the best definitionâŚ!â
And that discussion would go on for hours â with Nero eventually giving in and adopting the âvibe is offâ from Danteâs vocabulary.
Memories aside, that was precisely what the red devil was thinking about while sitting at his usual desk at the Devil May Cry: that day, your vibe was off.
You didnât even try to convince him much: as soon as you got a call, you left for a job on your own, telling Dante you didnât need him around and he could stay at the shop, in case someone called for him specifically. It should be easy so donât worry about it, you said with a proper smile on your lips, before grabbing your gear, quickly kissing him and leaving on your motorcycle.
But something wasnât right in that smile of yours: it was a little too perfect, too contained. Your shoulders were in high alert and your whole body looked tense, as if ready to be attacked at any moment. Your quick kiss trembled in his lips for a fraction of a second â but, during that half-second, you hesitated. As if maybe you should tell him something, deciding you ultimately shouldnât.
Everything was right and you should be back by nightfall. But something in you was off, something in your vibe. Dante couldnât quite put it into words, but he would bet he would be able to sniff it out of you when you entered in the shop.
The sky outside was already tinging with a dark shade of purple, the burnt orange shades far away on the horizon line, ready to plunge into darkness until the next day. Soon, the moon would be out, with its pale glow to faintly bright up a dark navy blue â and you still hadnât returned; from an easy job.
If Dante was competent at what he did, you were too. He never doubted your abilities and, if you considered it easy, then he considered it easy â and calculated how long it should take by his standards. After all, you were more than capable to follow his pace, and that was something he was always so grateful for.
Looking over his magazine, Dante had been stationary on that page for almost an hour already. Nothing too special: an article about the latest guns in the market, something he was interested about, but nothing would really beat Ebony and Ivory. He had read that a couple of times already, and was beginning to string phrases that werenât really there; piecing together words from the beginning of the paragraph with words at the end, making absolutely no sense.
He stared at the heavy wooden doors of the Devil May Cry. Dark skies, fixed silence, and you still werenât back home.
âWhat givesâŚ?â Dante sighed to himself, furrowing his brows. Turning his sky-blue eyes back to the article, he pretended to read some more, while his mind kept on thinking about you.
He was too worried, and he knew how you hated when he got worried like that â something about seeming like he didnât trust you to do your job and get it done without getting hurt. Dante had explained a thousand times it wasnât like that at all, and did his best to avoid smothering you and being overprotective⌠But he couldnât help how his heart would beat completely out of sync when you werenât around when your vibe was off.
He couldnât help it. Dante loved you too much to ignore when he felt something was bothering you â and to not worry when a supposedly easy job was taking a lot more time than him, and you, expected.
âAaah, damn⌠Itâs hopelessâŚâ Dante murmured to himself, finally tossing the magazine on his desk and getting up right after; tossing his hair around to see if that could at least relieve some of his anxiety.
He would never comb it back like Vergil, though. Definitely not his style.
Maybe he could take a shower, to cool his head and see if those worried thoughts would wash down the drain â at least a little. Dante was avoiding resorting to his whiskey bottle, but⌠Well, if it got too bad; if memories started coming back, haunting him, telling him the same thing that happened to everyone in his life was going to happen to you, that you would burn just like everyone else, then a few shots wouldnât hurt.
Hunting wouldnât hurt, either. Fighting and killing demons was always very efficient in making Danteâs thoughts finally shut up for a second â when he was constantly fighting for his life and with a real danger of having his head cut off his body, the fear and adrenaline were more important than whatever ghost hiding in the corner of his mind. The haunting always subsided, at least for a few moments.
âHmmm, what y/n does againâŚ?â Dante sighed once more, hands on his hips while slowly pacing around the shop. âTea. Some tea... Might help.â
That was one of the things you did, whenever you noticed Danteâs demons were coming out of their cage to taunt him. It was strange, even, how well you could read him: he wouldnât say a word, but suddenly you were bringing him something soothing â not to his body, but to his soul. A warm cup of tea, some hearty hot chocolate⌠You always managed to bring him something to comfort â and you stayed. Talked, until his monsters were tightly bound inside their closets again.
Not with violence. But with care.
Halfway to the kitchen, though, Dante perked up as soon as he heard the familiar noise of the front door handle being pushed. Spinning in his heels, he quickly turned around, with a satisfied smile plastered on his lips.
Dante thought the sight of you would be enough to have his ghosts disappear for the time being, back to the darkness where they belonged, far away from your light. But, as soon as his eyes met you, Dante couldnât hold back the frown that took over his face.
âHey, babe. Somethinâ wrong?â
Of course something was wrong â he believed he could sniff it out of you, and sniff he did: you looked up to him, blood sprinkled over your clothes and some even on your face, with the emptiest eyes he had ever seen. And that was something quite out of the ordinary: if there was something Dante adored, was the light you had inside your eyes; that spark of life that always proved him there was good in this world, and a lot of it lived inside your soul.
That evening, though, your eyes seemed opaque, completely void. They were already threatening to become like that when he sensed your vibe was off, but right now⌠Well, now Dante could clearly see it.
âHmmmâŚ?â You had your brows furrowed, looking up at Dante as if you hadnât seen him there â which was quite a feat, considering his size and how much he always lit up the room for you. Upon finding the worry contained in his sky-blue eyes, though, you immediately forced a serene smile to spread across your lips. âOh. Itâs nothing, babe. Just⌠A little harder than I expected, thatâs all.â
And there it was: the mask you used to hide behind every time you didnât want to get him worried. It didnât matter how well you crafted and wore it, Dante was still able to read the truth; after all, you couldnât fake that spark in your eyes he loved so much. And, no matter how hard you tried to conceal it, that spark was dormant, hidden behind a cloud of conflicting emotions you didnât want to tell him about.
âI seeâŚâ Dante slowly approached, almost casually, playing your game as you closed the door â turning your back to him, so you didnât have to put on the act too much. He crossed his arms, still observing: youâd always find a way to avoid his eyes when your vibe was off. âLady and TrishâŚ?â
âWe had to split up at some point, I handled thingsâŚâ You shrugged, still fumbling with the door lock and your gear, as if everything else in this world was more important than Dante at that moment. You could feel his eyes burning on the back of your head. âCalled them, they got their side done, I got my side done, theyâre now collecting the pay. Lady will transfer my cut when sheâs got the money.â
âSo you came back on your own?â It wasnât out of character for the three of you to split up and go your own ways after calling each other â but still. Your vibe was off.
âI was closer to the shop, figured three devil hunters to collect a pay is overkill.â You let a little laugh at the end of your sentence, but something about it felt a little forced. Finally, you turned around, meeting Dante only a few feet away from you â with those sky-blue eyes that always seemed to read your soul. It was comforting, even if you didnât want to worry him. âIâm tired. I just wanna take a shower and rest. They can handle it on their own.â
âLady can always handle the money, alright.â He had a half-smile on the corner of his lips, having you mirror his demeanor â this, at least, was sincere. It was almost like your vibe attuned back; though it didnât last long. âYou sure everythinâs alright, babeâŚ? Your shoulders are kinda tense.â
âWell, I just spent a whole day fighting, theyâre bound to get like that, I guess.â You sighed heavily, although trying to keep your voice lighthearted. Dante did notice how you said you spent the day fighting, not killing demons. You usually said the later, in a jokingly, carefree manner, even. âNothing some hot water wonât dissolve, I think.â
âHmmm. I can always rub that tension out of ya.â Dante winked back, with a smart smile coloring his lips â he knew how much you appreciated his playful flirting. âThese hands are used to hard work, babe.â
âOh⌠As much as I appreciate the massage offer, DanteâŚâ And you turned your eyes away from him, already making your way to the stairs. He couldnât refrain from frowning a bit â he expected one of your playful nicknames for him, like big guy, red devil, cowboy⌠Not Dante. It felt like being called by his full name by his mother. âIâll have to pass. I really need a shower and some rest.â
âCanât force you to do somethinâ you donât wanna do, babeâŚâ He sighed, following you upstairs almost like your very own towering guardian demon, ready to catch you if you fell. Even if you were doing something completely mundane and uneventful, like climbing a set of stairs. âIâll be âround if ya need me, âk?â
âYou donât have to worry about me, Dante.â Still, he followed you inside the bedroom, as if now you two were connected and nothing would be enough to make him go away. And, again, he felt the same thing upon hearing you call him Dante. âYou can do your own things, Iâll be fine. Itâs just a shower for a tired human body, thatâs all.â
âIâve read that same damn article five times already, donât need to read it a sixth time.â Dante finally stopped in the middle of the room, forcing you to do the same â halfway to the bathroom, with your clean clothes you gathered while he followed you around and you avoided his eyes. Now, you couldnât avoid those piercing, but loving, sky-blue eyes. âWhatâs wrong, y/n? You know you can talk to me.â
You immediately frowned as your jaw tightened a little; and there you were thinking you were doing a good job at deflecting Danteâs questions and looking as fine as you could be. You also understood how he felt when you called him so starkly by his name while trying to match your usual playful, carefree talks.
âIâŚâ Closing your eyes, you finally took a deep breath. If you kept staring at Dante for too long, you wouldnât be able to keep your cool facade for too long. âIâm just⌠Tired. Thatâs all. I donât want you to worry about me, Dante, Iâll be fine ââ
âBut I do worry âbout you.â He wasnât one to interrupt you while you spoke â in a matter of fact, Dante never interrupted you. But, this time, he felt like he needed to; and you needed to listen.
âI know.â You opened your eyes again, gazing back at Dante. The more you did, though, the more the lump in your throat seemed to grow; and that turmoil stirring inside your chest started building up, almost like knowing Dante could weather the storm, whatever it was. You didnât want him to weather that storm, though: it was yours to carry and he already had too much inside of himself to endure. âBut I donât want you to. Itâs⌠Itâs probably going to wear off in a while, I just need to wind down a little, IâŚâ You sighed again, that frown taking over your face â your mask cracking ever so slightly. âIâm just tired. Our job is tiring and my full human body needs its time to recover. Iâve been pushing myself, I think I just need some rest. You can stop worrying.â
âWell, ok, y/nâŚâ Dante shook his head and you knew he didnât buy it â but, if there was something you were thankful for your red devil, was that he never pushed too much when you werenât ready for something. Even if everyone believed otherwise, Dante was quite patient â especially with your time regarding your own feelings. âLike I said, Iâm gonna be âround. If you need me, gimme a shout, okâŚ?
âOk.â You now had a sincere slight smile on your lips â and that made Danteâs heart light up a little bit. âThank you, Dante.â
âNo need to thank me, y/n.â His answer wasnât loud and spirited as always, but low and calm; almost like a murmur, as Dante approached and placed a kiss on your forehead.
As he moved to the bed, sitting on the edge and taking off his worn boots, you followed to the bathroom â leaving the door slightly open, as you both always did when you were in the shower. That way, you kept your privacy, but if any of you needed the other, you could always talk and easily enter without having to worry.
The warm water of the shower certainly felt like a blessing â something that could, indeed, help your tense shoulders relax a little bit. You had to admit, it wasnât as effective as Danteâs hands: with years of devil hunting, he was quite proficient in massages to relax the muscles. As he said, those hands did do more than just killing, and you never passed the chance to have him help your tension wash awayâŚ
But you were avoiding staying near him, and you didnât really know why. Your heart was strange, your chest feeling void and light. You didnât expect a job to affect you that much, but it did â and you didnât want to admit it.
You, Lady and Trish had been tracking down what seemed to be a bunch of demons that kept moving from town to town, always covering their tracks. Dante did find that job interesting, since that type of behavior indicated higher-ranking demons â the ones that werenât moved only by their thirst of blood, but that could actually think of intricate plans and tried to stay one step ahead of hunters.
They werenât the most common of types, but they did exist. Dante would have joined you and the ladies to track them down, but Nero had a job lined up that ended up needing more than one hunter. Since you and the ladies were more than capable to handle things, Dante decided to help the kid â if you needed a hand, he would always answer your call.
As you kept on investigating, you started picking up leads that changed your suspicions regarding those demons â but you decided to keep that to yourself. As the week went by and Trish finally found their hiding location, you were more and more certain of what your intuition was telling you â and you didnât want to be. You hoped to be wrong.
It wore you down, though. Every time you were out working, it seemed like you were wasting double the energy you would usually waste, and it took a toll on you. Deciding to carry everything silently, you didnât want to worry Dante with something you didnât even know if it was true.
But it was. And that day, the job took so long because your intuition was right. And you hated it.
You could easily understand Dante when his eyes were opaque and his heart seemed to have vanished from his chest â those days when he sat on his desk, no magazine in hand, just staring at some empty spot or at the portrait of his mother. The days when his soul seemed to be gone, and all that energy he always carried around was nowhere to be seen. He needed to recharge: he needed comfort, love and gentleness; though everything he always got was blood, hatred and harshness.
It felt like your heart weighed inside your chest, and you could barely bring yourself to finish your shower. You didnât know exactly what you were feeling, you just knew it wasnât good. That lump in your throat reappeared and almost felt like choking â and you had to wonder if that was the same thing Dante felt in those days, when all his light was out.
He spent a lifetime without anyone to help him deal with those ghosts, and you did as well â until you found him. You always did your best to bring Dante the gentleness he always desperately needed in his life and never got to have, and you noticed he did the very same, in his own way⌠Not to repay your actions, but out of the genuine love and care he had in his heart for you.
Because after everything Dante had lived through, after all the fire and blood, his heart always remained loving and good.
Your eyes suddenly filled with a flood that, even if you tried to hold back, couldnât be contained. He had always been there. During your hardest days, your bleakest of moments, Dante was always there by your side â quietly, gently, unmoving. He was always loud and lacking seriousness, but when you needed a safe place to fall and comfort, Dante was the most sincere, silent and steadfast presence you ever had in your life. He always knew how to read what you needed, and you got to experience a whole side of his personality he didnât really show others.
You werenât really finished with your shower. You stepped out, wrapping yourself on the fluffy towels you insisted to spend money on, and walked to the bedroom, wondering if you would find him.
And of course you did: Dante said he would be there if you needed anything, so he would be there. Standing near the chair where you two left your daily clothes and pajamas, changing his shirt for the one he wore to sleep â you caught a glimpse of his back, littered with new and old scars.
âHeyâŚ!â His voice was a little more casual, lighthearted as always; but as he turned around â you were sure Dante had sensed you walking out of the bathroom as soon as you stepped through the door â he found your eyes marinated with tears, while you approached with hair still wet and wrapped around your towel. His demeanor changed in the blink of an eye, and there he was: quiet, serious Dante; ready to hold you whenever you needed him to. âHey. Whatâs wrong, y/n?â
You didnât answer â at least, not with words. You just closed your eyes and wrapped your arms around him, resting your head on his chest. Dante had to admit he was shocked, but that feeling lasted for a fraction of a second; soon his arms were tightly holding you, one of his steady hands resting on your head.
You took a deep breath, still trying not to cry. It always felt so warm, though, the way Dante held you: he knew the extent of his strength, and he always knew how to wrap his arms around you in a way that didnât suffocate, but was enough to make you feel safe.
âToday sucked, big guyâŚâ Your voice was slightly muffled by how you kept your head almost hidden in his chest, sulking in a way it seemed you would melt away on the floor. Dante couldnât stop the slight, peaceful smile that graced his lips: the mask broke, and you were finally there. That was all he ever wanted, you; no matter the mood.
âIâve a feelinâ it wasnât just todayâŚâ He had that voice on. That quiet tone, the one that he always wore when things were serious and your hearts were the ones speaking. It gave you the confidence to talk about it, always did.
Dante had an expertise in dealing with emotionally hindered people, after all.
âThis whole job⌠It was bad.â You sighed, still hiding your face in his chest. Dante kept his hand on your hair, slightly caressing you â he had to point out to himself, how precious you looked when you decided to let your guard down and trust him with your heart. âI⌠I donât even know what Iâm feeling, but⌠Iâm⌠Empty. Like it drained me of everything good I have inside, and thereâs nothing left.â
âHeyâŚâ Now it was Danteâs turn to frown: you were both used to seeing the worst the world had to offer, so he had to wonder what the hell was that job about. As he called, you finally risked a look up, meeting his sky-blue eyes: indeed, yours were empty, even if a few tears rolled down your face. Almost as if your body was involuntarily weeping, since no emotion could be read in your expression. âHell would need its absolute worse to take the good out of ya. And even then, Iâll be here, so thatâs somethinâ thatâll never happen, pretty eyes.â
You furrowed your brows slightly, with a small smile appearing on your lips â your feelings scattered everywhere, you didnât know if you wanted to cry, argue, smile or hug him even tighter. Danteâs hand that caressed your hair went down, his fingers wiping away the few tears on your face.
And you had to close your eyes, almost as if it hurt. All that kindness, the soft touch from his rough, calloused hands⌠You were not used to that, as much as he wasnât used to receiving it â but Dante experienced it with you. And now, he was making sure you would have that as well.
It did hurt. In the best of ways.
âWanna talk about itâŚ?â
âIt wasnât demons this time.â Your answer was a whisper, your eyes still closed. Once again, you rested your head on his chest, listening to the beat of his heart â somehow, that always seemed to calm you down and ground you; opening your eyes again, you wrapped your arms tighter around him. âThere were demons involved, but they were just pawns⌠We split so Lady and Trish could find the missing children and teens, I told them I could take the demons responsible for the kidnappings and killings. âCause I knew they wouldnât be demons.â
It finally downed on Dante what you were talking about â and thatâs why he held you a little tighter against his chest. Humans could be as evil as demons, and he had killed plenty of those who filled those shoes: Dante would spare goodhearted demons, but he would kill evil spirited, rotten humans, who were nothing more than a low-tier demon in his view.
But he also knew that kind of thing was easier to talk about than to do. Killing demons was one thing, killing humans was completely different. It helped to see them as he saw: low-tier demons, keeping a weak, human form because they were so pathetic they couldnât even be born in a more powerful vessel. Just a sniveling little creature, whining about becoming more powerful and corrupting everything good in their way â a little weed, needing to be cut off. And thatâs what he usually did.
The first time he did so, though, it wasnât that easy. His mindset came with the years, and it helped him to do his job and uphold his morals. With time, Danteâs heart grew colder and harsher towards those who had everything and still chose to follow a path of absolute rot and filth â maybe the one who started that was Arkham, but Dante never really gave that pathetic man too much thought. He didnât deserve it.
âI didnât want it to be humans, calling the shots on something so horrific. I had my suspicions, but I wanted to be wrong.â You closed your eyes again, taking a deep breath. âWeâd probably have a discussion if itâd be better to turn them over to Ladyâs contacts in the police office, so I didnât tell the ladies. I found them, and theyâre all dead. Itâs over. TheyâŚâ
You stopped yourself for a while, the words caught up at the tip of your tongue. Luckily, Dante could always meet you halfway.
âThey were demons.â
And, somehow, hearing him say that cleared a thorn that seemed to be lodged deep inside your heart ever since you left the Devil May Cry that morning.
âThey were demons.â You whispered back, almost as if finally accepting those words. âI⌠Donât know what to feel. I should be horrified, and I donât want to become a monster, but⌠They deserved it. All of them. Deserved it. AndâŚâ You frowned once again, now a little more confident to voluntarily look up at him â meeting Danteâs gentle gaze for such a harrowing subject. âMaybe all my feelings are so contradictory they are canceling each other and Iâm feeling nothing but extreme exhaustion.â
âYa know, this job⌠It doesnât get just your body tired, but sometimes your soul. You gotta find yours again.â Dante once more caressed your face, only to turn his fingers back to some rogue strands of wet hair on your head. âKinda like those things sucked out your energy, and you need to get it back. Youâre not a monster, y/n. Youâre human. And humans get their souls exhausted too.â
âPart of me wished I hadnât seen any of thatâŚâ You let out a tired sigh, now resting your forehead on his chest. âThe other part of me is glad it was me to be there. That I got to be the one to do this job.â
âYeah⌠I know what you mean.â
For a moment, you both just stayed quiet: Dante still caressing your wet hair, and you grounding with the rhythm of his heartbeat. You couldnât really tell how much time had passed â maybe it was a few minutes, maybe it was a few hours â the only thing you were sure was that you didnât want him to let go. You wanted to stay in his arms forever, quietly recharging from all⌠That.
It felt like you would never have the energy to fight and go by your usual daily activities again â and something in your heart pointed you to a belief that Dante knew exactly how that felt like.
âTell you whatâŚâ And, as much as he wanted to embrace you forever, Dante also knew you would soon catch a cold from standing in the middle of the room like that â no matter how warm he was, he still couldnât work miracles. âYou finish that shower of yours, put on some warm clothes, then meet me in the kitchen, âk?â
âIn the kitchenâŚ?â You had to raise one brow as you distanced from him â something your heart was strongly opposing to. âYouâre not gonna set anything on fire, are youâŚ?â
âEh, ye of little faithâŚ!â Danteâs heart also opposed to letting you go, but if he didnât, you two wouldnât move for a long time â and you deserved to be taken care of, after taking care so much of him throughout the years. âIâll have you know, I didnât survive all this time only on pizza.â
âInstant noodles donât count, big guy.â
And there it was: Danteâs ability to make you laugh even if you were absolutely miserable. With one hand over his chest, he looked at you as if he was thoroughly offended by your words â and you couldnât help but laugh, even if softly.
âI happen to know how to cook pasta. Will do it for ya someday.â With those words, Dante placed another kiss on your forehead â lingering for a few seconds, not needing to use his words to make it clear how much he cared for you. âTake your time, Iâll be waitinâ for ya. No fire in the kitchen, promise.â
You shook your head slightly. How could you ever say no to that?
*
The smell at the main floor of the shop was sweet, as you finally went downstairs wearing your cozy pajamas and warm, fluffy socks. You could see the moon high in the sky through the windows, heading to the back â where you found Dante patiently stirring something on the stove of the small kitchen.
As soon as you got there, your nose picked up the scent: hot chocolate. That was something Dante didnât know how to do â he and Nero famously tried to do it once during a particularly cold winter to try to impress you and Kyrie, but it ended with you and her cleaning the stove and trying to salvage the completely charred milk pitcher. The kitchen smelled of burnt chocolate for weeks.
This time, though, it wasnât like that. Dante seemed very concentrated on his mission of stirring the content in the pitcher, controlling the low heat on the stove so it wouldnât boil and overflow, but still warm up nicely.
You had to wonder, when did he learn that.
âNow thatâs new.â You leaned by the door, resting your head on the door stop while observing him â if Dante turned around, he would be able to see the adoration in your eyes.
âWhatâŚ?â And his low, quiet voice was back â although laced by the serenity you needed to have your heart calm down a bit. âIâm pretty good at learnin' from observation, ya know.â
Even if Danteâs voice had that edge of softness you needed at the moment, that comment finally made it down on you how much he observed you on a daily basis.
You werenât really aware of it, but he would always be there, watching as you did the most mundane of things â and not in a controlling way, but with the adoration in those sky-blue eyes of someone who never had that; who thought he would never get to live that. Dante could find beauty in all things that you did: be it organizing the shop, training to refine your fighting skills⌠Or just preparing some hot chocolate.
He had observed with enough care to learn how you did it, without needing you to explain.
âWhy donât you do it more often, thenâŚ?â You tried to keep your voice steady, always avoiding making it clear how much your heart was affected by Dante just being⌠Dante.
âI like the way you do it, babe.â And meeting you halfway as always, Dante wouldnât tell how much he enjoyed the way your hand gently stirred the chocolate, how you always seemed to hum a little song while waiting, how your foot mindlessly scratched the back of your ankle so you wouldnât take your eyes away from the task at hand. How he loved when you did it all for him â just like now he was doing for you.
For a moment, you understood: watching as he mindlessly brushed his hair away from his eyes with his free hand, as he slowly stirred the chocolate, as he quietly waited with a patience that only seemed to be reserved to your eyes. There was a silent beauty in that; of a little moment, that you were certain would be caught in time, forever in your mind.
Maybe that was what eternity was about.
Quietly, you approached your red devil â who noticed you coming, but still kept to his task, as you would always do with him. What he didnât expect, was for you to wrap your arms around his torso once again, now with your head resting on his back.
Dante couldnât hold back the smile spreading through his lips, as he held your hands with his free hand â keeping at his mission of preparing you a nice cup of warm hot chocolate.
âThank you.â Your voice was a whisper, as you closed your eyes and kept listening to his heartbeat. Such a human heartbeat.
âFor what, babe? Chocolate isnât done yet.â
âFor always being my home, Dante.â
As you started to softly hum a song both of you knew quite well, Dante squeezed your hands slightly tighter; sky-blue eyes with a forecast of rain.
This time, it didnât bother him to hear his name from your lips.
