Disclaimer: I do not own Devil May Cry or any of its characters, nor is any money being made off of this.
So... I really was going to make this a Vergil/Lucia fic because...?fan-dork reasons, but it morphed on its own as a Sparda/Eva fic so...enjoy. I'll probably do something with them later on :D
I'll put this as AU since there's practically nothing on Dante and Vergil's parents, more so Eva than Sparda. Oh well. As usual some will see it as slightly OOC because there's nothing to go on about Eva so read at your own risk :D.
Intellectual Study
Eva spent the majority of Labor Day weekend cramming for exams, cooped up in her room to study in intricate detail on her upcoming History test. It got to the point where she couldn't absorb another cause of war or land expansion, Carolina blue irises straining to focus on another black-printed word. Her brain took the reigns of all notions of studying, deciding it was time for a well-deserved break.
Most of the students on campus made the most of their brief vacation. Exams or not, the holiday visited and they celebrated like no tomorrow.
Eva wanted in on the fun and excitement. Her mind had wrapped around ideologies of rulers and mathematical concepts, acing her tests with flying colors and she needed to feel rewarded. Calls reached out to her friends to dance the night away, but they had plans.
Nevan participated in an animal rights activist party preaching the conservation of bats. They were killed off as sport with the crossbow, then mounted like trophies. The red-head body-painted her skin green for the cause.
Matier volunteered in community work along with her toddler Lucia, rebuilding her neighborhood after a fire nearly scorched the building beyond salvage.
Kalina Ann busied herself with falling under the spell of her new beau, spending her free time with him and abandoning her girlfriends. Eva couldn't place her finger on it, but something about that bald creep rubbed her the wrong way.
No one else she called picked up, her ears meeting with voice mails and answering machines.
"I better just call it a night," she moped, hearing the bustle of loud laughter outside her window. Staying in seemed like a good idea, gaining rest to arrive in her classes with a sound mind but she needed to do something.
Deciding to follow her gut she hopped in the shower, soaping up with strawberry-scented body wash. After feeling refreshed she plowed through her closet, spending nearly half an hour on what to wear.
A skin-hugging black sheath dress fit snug over her figure, complemented by red studs, a matching cinch belt, and heels. Today her hair flowed in long loose curls from its kept ponytail, Nevan approving of her flowy waves than its professional appearance when she went out for special events.
Life swung in full force on her way to Capulet Station. The orange-red streaks in the sky marinated the streets in a soothing hue, adding to the calm yet bustling ambiance. Businesses, bakeries, and clothing stores attracted customers to their offers. The old and young blended together, filling the shopping venues with the chatter of products too cheap or expensive to buy.
The train platform bustled just as lively, a bit too much for her tastes but people had the intent to enjoy their weekend.
Fellow students traveled to visit their parents. Collective groups of friends made plans to go eat at restaurants. Lovers embraced in lascivious gestures, determined to enjoy each other before their studies controlled their free time.
One guy in particular wanted to enjoy her, annoying her with cheesy pick-up lines but she cared less to entertain his efforts, his wild, hungry blue eyes undressing her.
They boarded the streamlined caravan, dodging as needed with the passing plethora of human traffic. The man kept on with his over-confident charm, to which Eva maneuvered around the crowd to lose him in the mob of passengers. Thanks in part to the crowded train he couldn't immediately come into direct contact, shoving through people with impatient haste. His enthusiasm irked her, Eva hopping off the train at the next stop with the man following in her gait, desperate to gain her digits.
Her lengthy heels clacked on the platform, walking towards the stairs with his dragged feet echoing behind her. At the last minute, she sprinted onto the hissing convoy, the doors closing on the man as he banged on the window, face scrunched up in anger. Elated to be rid of such a bothersome fool she flipped her hair back, taking to staring out the glass instead of the hardened and humored eyes of the patrons aboard.
Soon her real exit came, the classic and bright lights illuminating the metropolis of Capulet City. Devil May Cry stood as a club she loved to frequent because of its eclectic, wooden design.
Homey but expansive described this establishment's insides. Deep mahogany oak lined the walls, emitting this dark yet soothing natural smell. Beige carpeted steps led to a wide dance floor. Surrounding the space where writhing bodies met, burgundy-brown leather couches complemented wooden tables. A polished bar hosting an eclectic mix of drinks drew the club-goers to its location – and Eva as well.
The place was packed, her eyes soaking in the atmosphere, managing not to bump into anyone with their uneven balance. Upon reaching the bar, a woman she had some classes with greeted her, lips turning upwards and her face brightening.
"Well, look at you darling," burnt-orange lipstick shined on curvy lips, luminous dark skin glowed behind the counter. Gloria's white bob mimicked the pink and yellow lights of the establishment's name above the bar, "Coming in here with that soft hair and tight dress. You have a date?"
"You're one to talk about tight dresses, Miss Thing." It stood true though. Wearing a white V-neck mini dress with an open front down to her navel, Eva didn't know how Gloria moved without her breasts falling out, especially serving customers in quick succession. The orange crisscross string in the front wouldn't keep those fleshy mounds covered in place.
"Bigger tips are always a bonus," Gloria laughed. "So, are you meeting somebody?"
"Oh no, I just had to get away from the books. I think they were going to eat me alive."
"Professor Baul's test," she rolled her eyes in understanding, "That can make anyone crazy."
"Yes, and please don't remind me about anything concerning that man's class. I can still see him scowling the whole time he's lecturing."
"Well, you found the right place to unwind. What will you have?"
"Um, a Long Island Iced Tea with strawberries."
"Coming right up."
Eva tuned into her surroundings, a rock-blues band creating a hypnotic setting to ease the patrons into a jovial mood. Women in skimpy clothing thrusted their pelvises against half-drunken men. Members from the university's most popular sororities challenged each other with tequila shots. Vapors from strong liquors danced around her nose, reminding herself to keep her wits about her.
The blonde came here with the purpose of relaxing from her studies, planning to sit down and listen to the music, even if her company included a lonesome number. She practiced control and restraint, a concept people threw away without a second thought tonight. She had no desire to lower all her inhibitions, just enough to reward herself a break from her mounting homework.
By the time the band started its third set, she saw double vision.
A few of her classmates gathered at the bar, ordering more drinks to aid in their brief vacation. With comedic gestures and loose speeches they convinced her to sit with them, venting their frustrations about certain teachers and their fellow peers in scathing detail.
Eva only provided insight to a few of her courses, knowing better to keep her opinions inside herself on certain issues and people at school. People had no trouble climbing over each other in the name of jealousy over how smart or rich a student was. Still, it felt nice to socialize on common topics.
When many left to dry-hump each other or gorge on alcohol, an expanded bubble in her lower stomach led her feet to the ladies' room, adamant to output some of the input she ingested. High-heels tripped over themselves, her momentum falling forward to have her face kiss the ground.
Eva sensed thick strong hands on her toned waist, realizing they were the only things holding her up. A heated filling originated from the touch, goosebumps skimming up her spine to clear her hazy conscious. She swiveled around to express her gratitude to the gentleman who prevented her from making an ass of herself.
Much to her surprise, it was the dean of the History department―Dean Sparda.
She'd recognize those handsome features and white, slicked back hair anywhere. Heat flushed under the area of her eyes, blinking to keep the embarrassment of her actions from showing. Long blonde locks shielded her face, hoping the dimmed lights overhead would keep her profile unrecognizable.
With her head lowered she brushed past him and mouthed, "Thanks!" seeking the sanctuary of the restroom.
Once inside women polluted every corner, smothering the air with pleasant and pungent odors. Dark mascara decorated thick eyelashes as women re-applied the black liquid in the mirror.
Conversations drowned out the echoing bass of the drums, colorful terms used to describe the males physically attractive to beady eyes.
All the commotion inside the ladies' room fell on her deaf ears, Eva drowning out the noise as her bladder swelled beyond comfort.
Six stalls lined the walls, the blonde losing confidence of her ability to hold it in when so many females needed to go. Her mind debated on sneaking in the men's room across the hall. If fifty or so ladies had to use the bathroom, then only two or three men used the men's room.
Half of them don't even wash their hands.
Withal, the idea seemed more appealing the longer she stood there, shifting her weight from leg to leg trying to prevent an accident.
"Girl, are you doing some ceremonial dance? Go ahead in front of me. I have to go, but not that bad," a kind woman said, offering a knowing smile.
Eva giggled and gave her thanks, slipping into the stall. Once inside she wished she used one of the men's stalls instead. Urine covered the seat, on the floor, and even the wall from drunken women who had missed their bull's-eye when they tried to squat.
With a tentative knock to the wall left of her she asked for toilet tissue, forgetting to check the necessity prior to squatting to pee. "Um, I'm sorry but can you please spare some tissue?"
She knew a woman occupied the stall, seeing pale, corn-infested toes in gold-toned shoes a size too small. And the mystery woman chose the correct time to drop pings of waste into the toilet, adding an unnaturally odorous funk to the foul smell wafting in the bathroom. Contrary to what many may think, females' shit can stink as horrid as any man.
The lady handed Eva a roll of tissue under the ceramic wall, compelling to issue another "Thank you!"
When she finished in the ladies' room, she glimpsed around the corner to see if the dean remained close by. Carolina blues scanned her vicinity, combing through the mass of entangled bodies. A tickled picture entered her mind, searching for Sparda amidst all the people like a Where's Waldo puzzle.
Sparda had left, the stomach-drop feeling she had lessening, Eva deciding to haul ass and leave before he spotted her again and figured out her identity. The blonde wasn't doing anything illegal nor breaking any rules, but she didn't want him to have that impression of her―as a drunkard. Suddenly, she felt like a child in trouble after sneaking sweets, wanting to go home and study to compensate for her behavior.
Soft, breezy air ghosted over her skin when she stepped outside, slightly rousing her to a more alert disposition―or so she thought. When her head lessened its foggy outlook her legs moved forward in slow steps, mindful to walk in careful strides to regain her bearings en route to the train.
Dammit, how many drinks did I have?
"Have a good evening, Miss Redgrave."
Red heels froze, feeling a blazing spike shoot through her body as the deep voice echoed off to her back. It wasn't an English dialect per se, but it sounded very cultured.
Shit.
"Hello Dean Sparda. I didn't think you knew who I was in there," she smiled, nervous as all shit when she faced him. The dean leaned against a crimson 1969 COPO Camaro, shining with a dark luster in the night sky.
Long legs walked towards her, half his body veiled in the shadows, yet his eyes pierced into her with bright intensity. It never occurred to her before, but he carried this haunted essence under the mixture of moonlight and streetlamps, aided by the uncommon hair color on his youthful appearance.
It passed as a fleeting thought, she realized. She didn't give it too much credence because telling her dean of the history department of his demonic presence didn't leave the confines of her brain.
Before she could gain a hold on her swirling thoughts he stood next to her, seemingly towering over her form. Now, Eva took pride in her height, a statuesque 5'9, but Sparda made her feel an even 5'.
"Of course I know who you are, Miss Redgrave. I take pride in keeping tabs on all of my students."
"Neat!" There she was in the middle of the night, curling her toes because her feet suddenly felt on fire. She made it a point to stop biting her lip, opting to stick her tongue into her cheek, making her nervousness worse.
"Are you ready for the exams?"
"I sure hope so. I've been putting hours of studying in and I just needed a break."
She felt like she spoke to her father, explaining why she'd left the library early in high school to hang out at the mall with friends. The flashbacks didn't need to pool into the mind right now.
"There's no need for an explanation, Miss Redgrave-"
"Oh please, call me Eva."
"... Eva." His voice eased the word through his lips, tasting it. "Everyone needs to relax; even history students. Besides, they say cramming is not the solution to good grades anyway."
"I t-totally agree." She nodded, recovering from the sudden spike of heat in her belly after hearing him talk. "Either you know it or you don't, right?"
"Absolutely."
Her heart thudded in her chest at the prolonged silence between them. Music thumped somewhere behind them, Eva keeping her eyes on passing cars and wandering people. His intense stare ignited a sweeping flush to her face, wishing he'd look at something else before she combust.
She wanted to leave but didn't want to be the one to say goodbye in fear of appearing impolite, waiting on him to speak first.
Blue-painted fingernails clasped in the front of her, an unfamiliar sensation spinning in her head, her balance telling her to lean against the wall prior to falling down.
Her eyes touched his, Eva swearing to see a tinge of humor dancing in them. She couldn't blame him though, to him she probably looked like an idiot with crimson heat coating her face, despite the cool air. Finally, she got her wish.
"Well Eva, it's getting late and I have to get going."
Eva glanced at the watch she didn't have on, realizing her mistake after five seconds then peering unto his twitching lips. Just what the hell did Gloria put into her drink?
Centering herself from her swirling head and mounting embarrassment, she offered a lazy smile in return. "Yeah, it is rather late. You take care, Dean Sparda. I'll see you around campus."
"Good night."
"Good night!"
Red heels developed a mind of their own, sending an urgent message to the brain in lieu of sprinting away, yet it occupied a conversation with her arms. It told her to grab onto the wall to steady herself, but the command didn't come through.
Eva couldn't focus on a single object, rapid images of the city's environment swirling through her eyes in a quick blur. Her wit couldn't control her actions, brain spinning in steady confusion to stabilize her thoughts. Her knees gave out from under her, vision darkening with the feel of strong comfort wrapping around her.
A/N: I have no clue if I'll create this as a one-shot (split into two chapters) or if this will go on with a story.
Apologies if this seems a little cliché, but I wanted to ease into this couple with something a bit more done over, setting and plot-wise before/if I dive into any more heavy stuff with them.
Speaking of setting, I was reading 50 Shades of Grey and I noticed some heavily borrowed elements from Zane's (Kristina Laferne Roberts) Shame on It All with the bar and wake-up scene (looks at E.L James with a raised eyebrow) so the version above draws from Zane's book.
As usual, the naughty version will be uploaded on another site and I'll provide the link... when I get around to it. Oh, and I already know about the whole 'Redgrave' thing with the novels.
Ciao!