Imagine V saving you when the Qliphoth sprouted its demonic vines throughout Redgrave. He took you to a haven and after some time came to visit you.
He really shouldn’t. There truly was no reason for him to. Everyone else that he has rescued and given aid to has already been dropped off to different safe points in what little areas can be considered a sanctuary. And there were plenty others that needed saving. Yet, here he stood still. In front of your door.
Since that day, V couldn’t get the thought of you out of his head. It was silly really. You two barely made conversation after the initial shock of you nearly getting pierced through by a demonic vine or eaten alive by a horde of demons. You were quite shaken and only spoke when he asked you if you were alright. But there was something about you that he could not place. Perhaps it was the way you looked at him, different than how most people did with suspicion and caution. Even the people he saved were wary of him as he led them through the streets away from the hell creatures’ eyes. You didn’t have that wariness though and even when the time came for him to take his leave of you to continue his searchings for other survivors, you spoke up to thank him genuinely. Dare he say, such a simple display of gratitude touched the tattooed man.
Griffon: “You gonna knock or what?”
V had half a mind to whack his avian companion with his cane but he stayed his hand, convincing himself that it was that sort of restraint that is the reason behind his tightening grip and not due to his growing anticipation of meeting you again.
V: “They say patience is a virtue.”
Griffon: “Well, my patience is wearing thin. Either you knock or I will and trust me, you don’t want the talking bird to knock.”
He scoffs at his familiar’s gall but takes the threat to heart. With a deep breath, V raises his arm to return Griffon back to ink and proceeds to knock on your door.
Hm. I suppose no one is home... In a way, he was both relieved and disappointed with the latter weighing heavier with each passing moment. Deciding there is nothing more he can do, he turns from the door-
Your voice. He hears your voice from beyond the door and the distinctive sound of it swinging open slowly. V turns to look at you over his shoulder. Upon the sight of you, he can see your eyes widen in surprise.
You step through the threshold to greet him with a welcoming smile.
You: “It hasn’t been that long. Plus, you’re a hard person to forget.”
His pride swells at your words.
V: “Is that right? Is this good or bad?”
You: “Good. Most definitely.”
He catches the way your eyes scan over him, over his attire, his tattoos, it was a slow tread your eyes made and he wonders what you were looking for on him before you finally settled with his face.
He really means that considering everything but chose not to divulge the details of his short life with you and smiled a bit when you laughed at what you thought was him being humorous. V found that he liked your laugh. You gaze at him for a moment before throwing a thumb towards your place.
V raises his brow at you. You were inviting him to dine? No one has invited him to anything before. With the entire city falling into ruin and hell still, pleasantry was a luxury no one could afford, yet here you are. V knew there was something different about you. Something kind and real, something he looked for and thought no longer existed in this world. He couldn’t define it to a single word, but knew that you encompassed what he thought was good and was thankful tenfold that he saved you all those days ago. He decided to take a leap once more since he’s gotten this far in both presence and mind.
He does not miss the way your smile widened and felt his own cheeks do the same.
You: “It’s not much, but I definitely have enough for two. Come on in.”
You grab a hold on his wrist and make way to lead him inside. Your hand was warm on his skin, he noted and he liked it. He was beginning to realize that there is a growing number of things that he liked about you. It frightened and excited him as such a warmth was thought forgotten to him for so long. Before you two cross the threshold, you turn back to face him.
You: “I’m sorry, I never asked. What is your name?”
Such a simple name, but the way it sounded on your lips affected him with a complexity that enthralled him, encouraged him to take whatever opportunity he can find to make you say his name more. He vowed then that he will visit you more often, as often as he could, with what little time he has left.
