Wait
The apartment looked…bigger without him. It was strange not to see him in his usual spot on the couch reading, a little habit he'd picked up since returning from hell - or rather, catching up on a hobby he'd had before he was trapped there.
Oddly, Shiro had taken up his little hobby too; occasionally reading his books or finding something of her own. She'd lean with her back against his shoulder with her feet on the armrest and a little smirk, and he'd grunt in annoyance; the first few times she had done it he moved and Shiro had flopped backwards, her head bouncing off the hard cushion. He'd sit on the floor until it became too uncomfortable and he would go to bed.
Eventually, he stopped moving and just let her lean against him.
Shiro wasn't sure when, or how, she'd become attached to the older male; she'd caught herself following him like a little child when they were out in the city, acting in a way that was new to her - more relaxed - and seemed to be seeking his approval at times. She didn't understand why it happened, and half the time she didn't even realize she was doing it, but those rare moments of praise made her heart swell with pride and she found herself wanting to be in his company more often.
So much so that she missed him now. He told her he needed some time to 'adjust' to his situation; he had returned from hell, sought her out for Yamato and then they were living together - he hadn't had any time to himself. A few days had passed and Shiro began to worry; she knew he was avoiding Dante because he wasn't strong enough to fight him, but what if they had bumped into each other?
What if Dante had…
She shook her head. Nope, Dante wouldn't kill his brother. She swiped up the book she was reading and made herself comfortable on the couch; she propped her feet up on the armrest and concentrated on the words on the pages. Her eyes grew tired hours later and at some point the soft ticking of a clock lulled her to sleep.
The action is gentle, but the book leaving her hands is enough to pull her from her sleep. "That's quite a habit you've gotten into, Shiro," he states with amusement in his tone. Her blue eyes gaze at him sleepily and she smiles at his smirk; he's a little messy around the edges with a few hairs out of place and a little dirty - but she couldn't sense anything wrong with him.
"Welcome home, Verge."
He gives her a little nod and reaches down to brush the hair from her eyes. It's little touches like that, and the comment he'd made about them looking alike, that made her wonder if he knew something she didn't and if he would ever tell; until then, she's content with their platonic relationship.
"Go to your own bed," he commands softly.
She groans but rolls off the couch with a smile.