If I Say I Love You

by The Bee's Tales

Valentine's Day passes Vergil like any other day for him, except for the over-commercialized events, discounts and unusually high demonic activity that plague it. However, for that one acquaintance, he might try to make Valentine's Day different and special...

4. Chapter 4: Answers Spring

Auth Note: Hey, I've finally FINISHED this chapter. I couldn't wait to get to this part as it's basically the 2nd climax and resolution, if not of the main story, to the plot. I'm sorry this took forever. I had reworked this part so many times, edited and re-edited it, had the 2020 issue and took awhile to recall what exactly I wanted to do for this chapter. But here it is and I hope I did Vergil justice, especially since 2019-2020 DMC5 Vergil is so prominent and has definitely created different interpretations of his moody behaviour across the fandom (and character, and parental issues, and being an absentee dad, etc.)!

And just as a HEADS UP: There's more talking in this chapter since it's about resolving the two main characters' emotional issues, so I can only hope it's okay-written. It is the HEFTIEST chapter I've done in my fanfic life so forgive me. The last chapter will be shorter since most of the conflicts I wanted resolved are done, so that's a promise for myself and the readers. **also erotic scenes are present at the last third of the entire chapter and they're detailed, please do not read if this isn't your jam or below 18 of age.

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Chapter 4: Answers Spring

J.D. Morrison is truly a man of trustworthy knowledge. Not only was he a great help in the creation of a cover-up story for the Storm at Fortuna Bridge, he had accompanied him to the one place where his poor Firearrow coupe can be fixed. His powers of restoration—or illusions of it—do have limitations. For one, Vergil is no car mechanic.

"I'm willing to pay the full price," Vergil stated with a conviction that has the mechanics and pawn shop owners looking at one another. "This car is one of a kind and historical. I'm sure you know how I feel, what with the Classics you have in your car storage."

"There's no need to guilt-trip, Mr. Sparda." The pawn shop owner said with a barrelled laugh. "Your Dodge Firearrow III coupe is a historical, rare gem. From the story you provided, the parts needed to restore her and the modern customizations needed to make it run as smoothly as modern competitions, I'd say, it's not money that's the problem, but time."

"Then I'm willing to wait," he echoes the same convicted tone. "Anything to make it…not a wreck."

With a confident nod, the shop owner led them to his office to sign paperwork, acknowledgements of any re-customizations, classified personal information and an appointment check every week.

"Quite fitting," the pawn shop owner eyed his name on the paper, grinning. "The Dodge Firearrow series was designed by Virgil Exner. You wouldn't happen to have gotten the car for that reason?"

A smirk forms on his lips as Vergil shakes his head. "There's humor in coincidences."

"She's in great hands, Vergil." Morrison assured him as he lit his fourth cigarette, after exiting the premises. "As for the wild Prowlers in the rehabilitation program, they've agreed in adopting the Vila's Creep. The Rights' organization has already taken Miss Anfisa for her recovery as well as taking her story about her captivity. Her case will definitely widen the Rights' and even investigative Hunters' blueprints of the black market industry. What's more, her safe house isn't too far from La Piuma, as the doctors believe her recuperation hinges on sociability and familiarity."

"Marcelin and her Children are allowed to visit, then." He mused, his thoughts deep in retrospect, and which Morrison nods to.

"Now comes the bureaucracy," Morrison's tone is one of weariness. "The authorities have agreed with what we've come up as a cover-up. I'm just glad Ms. Lombardo and the Halfield family are willing to cooperate, otherwise the authorities would have to take things with their own hands to 'shuffle' their memories…"

"They should be glad they didn't." Vergil rebuts with a slight growl. "The two of them were important for how they saved the night by successfully calming down a wrathful and powerful Vila. They should be under witness protection instead of being treated as collateral."

"Yeah, well, everything and everyone to them is collateral," Morrison shrugs as he flicks the ash off his cigarette. "Including their own. Secrecy is status quo, not for safety."

Vergil scoffs. "I can't wait for the day they fail. I wouldn't mind taking over their authority."

The two men part ways as Morrison takes his Ford Torino Cobra out of the parking area while Vergil has borrowed one of Dante's bikes, a dark cherry 2001 Moto Guzzi Café-Racer, as his temporary ride. He's regretful for having not picked a more subtle-looking ride from Dante's garage back in Slum Avenue, but he surmises that he'll grow used to it, since it's estimated to be over a month his vintage coupe will come back good as new. And speaking of Slum Avenue, returning there after school hours without so much as a shut-eye seems to be looking like one of those nights again…

If only Dante would be helpful with the new files…

He does admit, however, Dante's subtle sympathy towards his suppressed feelings and procrastination in solving his relationship issue with Kathalina (if there was any in the beginning…) is highly appreciative. And yes, this motorbike is pretty cool.

It had been just less than an hour after they left the long freeway bridge of Fortuna City and went immediately to the Devil May Cry office. During the trip, Dante filled the quiet gaps with snarky comments against the agents that came to clean up the mess.

"So on top of being assholes, the 'police' they sent there are definitely weirdoes," Dante remarked with his usual blasé tone. He unlocks the Devil May Cry office door and pushes it open. The twins step inside and the smell of dust, old alcohol and the aroma of the supernatural Devil Arms linger around them. "The way they were hovering around the kid…could've punched that one cop to get his senses right. But I'm glad Kathalina kept her cool. Those bastards won't get through her when they go to her apartment tomorrow—"

"Dante." Vergil interrupts, his eyes closed. Recognizing his twin's stress, Dante sighs and goes all the way to his bar to pull out a Jack Daniels.

"Long night." Dante remarks as he pours their drinks. Without any more preamble, Vergil opens his eyes and walks at the office's bar to join his twin. Dante slides the drink across the bar counter for Vergil to take in his hand. After Dante closes the bottle, he lifts his drink for his twin, as a gesture of sympathy, who does the same.

Together, they drink solemnly. The golden liquid is as smooth as ever, becoming fire deep at the end of their throats.

"Long night." Vergil agreed, his voice revealing exhaustion.

As twins, they have a kind of bond that borders on telepathy, never mind their actual powers of it. But being family, they knew how the other is through body language. And from what Dante can see, it's rare and very personal to see his twin so slumped and fatigued.

Sympathetic, Dante lends him the office's bathroom and spare clothes for Vergil to change into. He takes a nap at the second floor bed and, as Dante expected, woke up just a bit less gloomy after an hour of it. They spoke of trivial and menial things, mostly relating to what food they should quickly eat, to any messages from Morrison or the Rights Organization. Nothing about Vergil's feelings at all, and to Dante, he thought nothing of it and continued to respect the solidarity and quiet.

So getting further into business, Dante leads Vergil outside his office. With his jangling keys, Dante shows him the avenue's makeshift parking garage. The building of this makeshift garage is adjacent to the Devil May Cry office, and just like the office, it is sandwiched among the old three- to five-storey buildings. Through Dante's words, the unofficial landlord keeps tabs on every vehicle safely parked inside the building, with a cheap fee. Going inside, Vergil had expected as much: dusty vehicles left to the environs of this stale, cold building. Dante's bikes are in pristine condition, however, unlike his office and to Vergil's growing appreciation. It had been a while since he rode a motorcycle.

"She's yours." Dante reveals the classic bike with a warm smile. "Of course, you're taking care of her. Your butt, your charge."

"Most definitely." Vergil states joylessly, not looking at his twin. "The whole university is going to be gawking at me, however."

"Pffft!" Dante slaps his hand on his twin's shoulder. "Have fun, big bro! Look, I know what's still bothering you, but since she's not making her move while you did all the work, then I have to say, you've done a job well done in being as good to her as possible." And he realized he made a mistake. Ah, me and my loud mouth…

A knot forms between Vergil's brows as he remains silent. Dante's sigh is one who has become dispirited over knowing the issue remains too intimate to be resolvable—plus, he must say he does feel tired—but without another word, dangles the motorbike's key in front of his twin. Vergil lifts his hand and opens it as the key lands on his palm, jingling along as the new owner puts it on the engine.

Now, a few hours after the whole incident at the bridge, the whole university was buzzing when he came to the school's premises; although he was glad he wasn't the center of attention too long. His alibi regarding a tune up with the vintage car is more than bought up and ignored altogether, as they seem to be distracted with the recent news.

"Why did you think a snow storm that big was only concentrated on Fortuna's Bridge?"

"It was confirmed to be the work of those manic Prowlers. Luckily, the authorities got it under control."

"Wait, how do you control a storm? That's as weird as why it's there in the first place."

"They do hire demon hunters. Maybe the demon hunters know magic or something, to calm the storm."

"But why was it there at the Bridge? And what happened to the Prowlers?"

"The authorities have collaborated with the Sapients' Rights Company. According to their recent post, they're going to rehabilitate the creatures so they'll gradually get appropriated with their actual wild counterparts."

"I can't believe they're still alive. They can make those huge tornados! They could've decimated the whole of Fortuna City! They don't deserve pity. They should've been killed!"

"Tornados?"

"Yeah! There're viral videos of it…"

"Wait a sec, Prowlers do have abilities, but they've never made a tornado before, at least from what was profiled of them…"

"They're manic! Of course, they could've done something like that!"

From the moment he enters his class, his heavy footfalls have his students scrambling back to their seats. Their faces, however, appear that they have plans to continue their gossip.

"Alright, settle down. This day's review quiz will not only appear on the Monday Exam, but these are crucial to pass your Senior's Finals. After the Monday Exam, we should be finished with the next topic before February ends—"

"Professor? Aren't you bothered about the recent demon attack—?"

He glares at his student—a very beautiful, bodacious curly-haired girl—whose top three buttons reveal her décolletage. She is among a throng of students who just don't understand the word 'No' when it comes to what attracts them. "No, Ms. Schlesinger, I am hardly bothered by a random tornado coming to wreak havoc because it's not stopping my History exams. Now, fix your uniform and get back to your seat."

She follows instructions, although she keeps batting her eyelashes at him.

"Sir?" A boy this time and genuinely worried. "I know the Fortuna Bridge is far from this university, but shouldn't there be some kind of plan to evacuate? The news does say these Prowlers are under rehabilitation, but who knows if they're unwittingly summoned new ones. I mean, we don't even have any official information as to why they did it in the first place."

Vergil sighs and his eyes do soften. "So you're asking if we're safe?"

The whole class is quiet and their eyes on him. He smiles humourlessly and glances at the classroom's door. Stepping away from the front desk, he trots towards his students' desks as he speaks with his voice low. "You're right to be curious and sceptical. You should know, the school was more than willing to shut the whole place temporarily, but unfortunately, the authorities have predicted this move, so they have informed the university's headmaster and the whole administration to remain the school open."

The murmurs of his students are instantaneous, many of which consist of 'See? Conspiracy!' or 'So…they don't care?'

"You all know why they want such a public institution open." He continues with his voice ominously low. "From what we, the teachers, have gathered, the main reason for the abnormal weather attack was because a battle took place at the Fortuna Bridge, between the Prowlers, who are now being rehabilitated, and a group of very reckless and greedy black market-hunters, who have decided to take on the Prowlers and sell their parts for profit. Yes, they were that desperate."

The murmurs became outrage, some slamming their arms on the desk. "What the fuck? They are stupid!"

"Oh, my God. I actually feel sorry for the Prowlers…"

"But, they got arrested?"

"No," Vergil answers curtly, turning his head to face the student who asked it. He swallows when his professor's stare is dead-serious. "They got devoured."

The outrage became a slew of retching and disgusted noises, scandalized faces and one saying 'Well, that was sorta expected!'

Vergil groans. "Enough! Do you want one of the prefects coming to investigate this classroom?"

Deciding he's discussed enough of the story, Vergil marches back to his desk and procures today's review quiz, as well as his student list for any absentee. Even so, the students are murmuring theories about how much profit would a Prowler even be, dead or alive, as well as 'confirming' the trail of blood all over the crumbled path of the bridge.

"Sir, Marcelin Halfield is not present." The Class Leader for his subject, Mr. Cho,had put his hand up as Vergil opened his student list book.

"His father is in a hospital. He had a terrible run-in with…one of the Prowlers, so Marcelin is excused."

The murmurs begin again. It's actually no secret that Mr. Halfield's side-work involves hunting demons and no doubt, Marcelin will have to face the music once he comes back to class.

As he calls the students' names, Vergil soon comes to the 'H' on the list when they hear hurried footfalls outside his classroom. The door bursts open and in comes a wheezing Marcelin Halfield!

"Ha! Ugh! I…I made it…"

"But you didn't have to." Vergil remarked dryly. "Now I'm marking you as Late."

Still panting and wheezing, Marcelin clutches his knees as the whole class suddenly erupts in applause! "Look what the Storm dragged in!"

"Nice one, Halfield! Now you got a Tardy-grade!"

"Take your seat, Mr. Halfield." He snaps his finger at him and points to his empty desk, a casual devilish smile on Vergil's face. "I don't want the attention of the Dark Lord Headmaster coming. I no longer have a 1UP to rely on."

The young man nods, his sweaty brunet hair waving along as he takes his seat. He has this knowing look on him, which Vergil merely quirks a brow at as he continues roll call.

The rest of the class goes by without any more surprises as he proctors and re-discusses any mistakes on the review quiz. He finds it both surprising and a relief that the class did pay attention, though he knows they aren't the type to endure a humiliating lecture from him and an embarrassing lower grade. When the bell rings for the next class, Vergil calls on Marcelin, to which some of his friends jokingly make ominous noises of impending doom.

"Shut it, José!" Marcelin warns and punches his arm at the same time, before going to his professor.

Vergil waits for every student to file outside the emptying classroom. He closes the door for privacy before attending to his student.

"I'm glad to see you're not as disturbed as I thought you would be." Vergil starts, folding his arms across his chest. "Not after what happened…not after what you saw of me."

Marcelin shrugs his shoulders with a grin, as if shrugging off that crestfallen feeling. "My dad's fine in the hospital. I told him I don't want to miss school…I don't want what happened yesterday to just…get to me, y'know. And just to be clear, I think it's pretty cool to know one of my professors is a magical demon hunter."

Vergil rolls his eyes at the description. "Magical…"

Marcelin stares up at his professor as he stares back at this young man. Vergil can see and feel no trace of any trauma so far, but even if he was, Marcelin has proven to be stubbornly hardy than he expected. It's almost nostalgic, remembering his and Dante's adventures when they had been young…

"Is there another particular reason for coming back to school and, perhaps, risk being watched by the…authorities?"

This time, Marcelin rubs his chin and looks elsewhere before answering him. "Well…last night…or rather, just a few hours ago, back at the bridge…Ms. Lombardo didn't look well…so I figured…"

"She hasn't come to work." He answers too matter-of-factly and likely a note defensively. Vergil hopes his talent to look as neutral as possible still holds.

"Oh! I mean…oh." The dejected tone in his voice hits a nerve close to Vergil's broken heart. It had only been a few hours ago, yet it feels like the hours has stretched into an eternity, what with the speed of their well-made 'fake' news spreading among the public, the quick rescue and rehabilitation of the creatures and Anfisa's new home near the countryside of La Piuma…

"Because of…the police, and the corroborated story, Kathalina's and Anfisa's cases appear as a robbery and property damage by these black-marketers who used demon magic."

"Wait, Anfisa..?"

He nods and lowers his voice. "They're still in school grounds. Do not get their attention. Use the alibi we've talked about. If anybody asks regarding Kathalina or Anfisa, state that they had been victims of robbery, nothing more or less."

Marcelin licks his lips as he nods. "Okay."

Scrutinizing his student's expression, Vergil lets out a sigh of relief. "Okay."

"But what about you?" Marcelin asks, his eyes squinting in scepticism. "How come you and your brother aren't…I don't know, scrutinized? Taken away? Not that I think that should happen! Are you in any trouble from them?"

He rolls his eyes, but it was out of this disbelief of being a secret part-time demon hunter and school professor. With a salty lopsided grin, he answers him. "There are rules I have to…follow so I don't raise suspicions or any warnings from certain people. It's the same with Dante, as with other demon hunters under their command."

As expected, Marcelin's head is shaking in befuddlement. "Okay, they seem to be powerful, from what you're implying. How come they're letting you do all the dirty work?"

"Oh trust me, Marcelin." Vergil lets out a cold chuckle. "They do dirty work alright. They do the kind of work that disregards ethics or any human ideology. They're self-righteous. Me, Dante and some of us are taking things our way so people can function, can do things for the world as if evils from Hell aren't coming in…"

Marcelin looks miffed at those last words. "They are coming in, aren't they?"

His professor doesn't give him an answer; instead, he takes a deep breath as he closes his eyes, and when he opens them, there's a fear in his eyes that Marcelin finds is perplexing, curious…

"There are worse things already here." He stresses to his student, even pressing his hands upon his shoulders as Vergil's eyes gleamed, tipping Marcelin further of the deep secrecy and dangers of having a clue of it. "And they've always been around...but they, the authorities, don't want to give them any sense that they are powerful. And they will sacrifice everything to do what they think is right and necessary to keep it this way. Right now, I, among others, am doing what we can to maintain how they need us, instead of taking things into their own hands."

His student could only nod, his face glazed with a sinking fear, as he momentarily looks at the floor. Letting him go, Vergil shakes his head as he sighs a weary breath and brushes his hair back.

He realizes, as he slicks his palm across his scalp, he had basically come to school after cleaning himself on his twin's dusty office and bathroom, was lent spare clothes that were of Dante's style and borrowed his twin's motorbike from that stale building! Although subtle, Vergil can still sense the blood and concrete on his skin, and the oiliness of his scalp feels despicable. Not to mention, the scent of Dante's and some woman's perfume emits within his twin's button up shirt and he hates to imagine what scent is still lingering in these borrowed Diesel denim jeans. He sniffs at the collar of his shirt and grimaces. Despite the detergents, there's no hiding the trysts this shirt has gone through.

"Marcelin, you don't think I look and smell ridiculous, right?" There have been times he's self-conscious and it's usually because of any misdeeds he may have caused, not because of a fashion swap. Because of the sudden change of subject, his student chuckles at him, further adding to his dismay.

"You know, when I walked inside this room, I actually thought for a second your twin replaced you."

"So it's a yes, I look ridiculous."

His student shakes his head. "No. You look like a rock star."

He takes a long breath of air and changes the subject, regretting to have started that one. "Anyway, I just wanted to clarify some things."

Marcelin crosses his arms. "Actually, it still bothers me. You and your fellow hunters are really powerful. Why can't you do something about that?"

Another deep breath and a painful expression gloom his face. "Of course we want to…but…it's a long story."

Marcelin's eyes widen and a smile forms across his face. "You're gonna tell me, right?"

A twinkle in Vergil's eyes is followed by a small smirk, before answering him. "I tend to treat heavy matters and stories like History and Sociology. I might have to quiz you to know you're paying attention."

And just like that, he had made a promise to his student that he can visit Devil May Cry and pester Dante for any information, so long as he does so on Vergil's schedule, otherwise any spying member of the 'authorities' will have to halt this clandestine operation. That seemed to excite the young man and secretly Vergil, too; it's as if he's given him a secret mission, with the rewards akin to great historical discoveries. Of course, he'll make sure to proctor what he does find and ensure Dante's influence—and by extension, Lady's, Morrison's and Trish's—doesn't rub on the poor boy.

"One last thing!" Marcelin says and Vergil groans impatiently. His next class is in a few minutes. "Sorry, but sir, you sound like your brother when you grumble like that."

He cocks an eyebrow at him, his eyes cold. "Is that all?"

"No, wait, I meant to ask, were you able to call or contact Ms. Lombardo?"

His features immediately become crestfallen. "I…I made an email through my phone. I asked her that she could, technically, ask for my help. I have made it clear to the police that they are not to do anything to her or to the neighbours. The story should be enough for the public to bite."

His student's arms wave exasperatedly, his tongue pressed against his internal cheek. Vergil tried, he had to try…

"Professor, did you try to tell her your side of the story? I mean, can't you make a day for the two of you to…understand?"

Making one last sigh, Vergil unfurls his arms and takes his student's shoulders to his hands. "I think it's about time for you to hurry to your next class. Or I'll report how you're deliberately being tardy." He pushes his student towards the door as Marcelin continues his romance advice.

"But professor, communication is the key to how you can have a solid foundation for a relationship! If you could keep emailing her or trying to contact her, she'll see how much effort you're trying to put forward!"

He snarls at his student. "There's also the concept of not coveting what you believe you deserve, especially if the person of your desire is unreachable or refuses to be in relations with you!"

"I'm not saying you 'covet' Ms. Lombardo!" He argues back as his shoes scrape the floor from being pushed out of the classroom. "I'm saying you two need a way to understand! I'm gonna try to visit Ann later! And on a weekend! And who knows, maybe she'll be allowed to be outside for a day! I don't know! But that's the power of communication—!"

Vergil had wrenched open the door and had called a prefect's attention. "Make sure this one gets to his class!"

This was Marcelin's cue to practically sprint, exiting the room in a mad dash. Left inside the vacated room, Vergil does ponder about what he needs to do—or say—to Kathalina. But thoughts of her, however, bring him to yesterday's memories, that evening inside his favorite booth in the library; when they both opened up to one another, without any of the walls of their presumptions of one another, completely vulnerable and genuine…

And he feels his very soul fracturing in pain and regret. But he is Vergil, after all. He endures, he always has. Heartbreak is not a wound worth looking into…

The whole school day had distracted him partially of his dark thoughts of losing a good friend and potential lover, and concentrated on the banality and rational realm of teaching Structural Functionalism and the history of Idealism to four classes; visited the library without having to inquire about Ms. Lombardo's absence and ate in lonesome quietude on the Outdoor Areas of the school, before returning inside to teach three more.

It had been just after grading the last batch of review quizzes, in a late afternoon in dismissal time, when he finally left the faculty. He was walking to the usual route of corridors, one elevator level down and through one of many double doors the school has, and out into the parking area when he had spotted Marcelin and his friends taking pictures and selfies around, and by his new motorbike no less. He can feel a vein inside his head shrinking to uselessness.

"Professor Sparda!" They are waving at him, motioning for him to pose among his rowdy students.

"I don't understand," Vergil states in his most sonorous tone, "how inconveniency can be so cruel."

The students all plead for him to pose for their social media, as well as take their photos while they pose in these teenage fantasy of caricatures around his brother's bike or doing what they call 'memes' or such, in which time, he has realized he is quite enjoying himself in directing these children on how to actually pose for photos.

"Johnny, tilt your head to the left a little bit…that's it!" He commands as he snaps the nth photo using all their phones.

They also offered how they want to take photos for his phone, to which Vergil remembers he specifically needed only three. But as they got too engaged in making him pose around the classic bike, he had realized he had more than seventy on his phone's gallery.

As six o' clock ticks, Vergil realizes he needs to be at Devil May Cry to assess the authorities' corroborated stories and the Classified Information files. He can't trust Dante in organizing these files nor does he even do any of this organization. Morrison had also texted him of a shop that specializes in fixing and customizing vintage cars, such as his coupe. His poor coupe had been towed and, through Morrison, would be delivered at the shop's address.

"I must leave now." He tells his students as they multitask in listening to him and posting their photos online. They all greet each other goodbye as Vergil starts the engine. A round of whoops and cheers surround him as they watch him back out of the park spot and swerve smoothly out of the school area. Knowing them, they have likely taken a video of him starting the bike and leaving the school premises, yet he worries little about it.

Vergil is indeed grateful for this wonderful bike; the thrill and the wind as he travels more than 80 kilometres on a motorway has him feeling a tiny bit cathartic, if not a bit frustrated. His shell has come off and everything flows, here in his lonesome as he steers the motorbike through the wintery motor way. He lets his mind travel to the events that had happened hours ago and he couldn't believe it; now, in the peace and solitude of his mind, the gap between the Bridge incident and to this present moment widening, that Vergil finds himself comfortably releasing both anger and guilt.

In the pawnshop and mechanical service, however, he had enclosed himself again and he can tell that Morrison can tell Vergil is going through a lot inside his head; he's both too still even when he paces and sounds standoffishly frustrated and desperate. Morrison mused and reassured Vergil that this particular pawn shop is good at handling highly customized vehicles and has a bias for vintage tastes. But now he can see in the young man's eyes that the events at the Bridge had imprinted itself on Vergil's mind and it's something he can't assuage. After dealing to the pawn shop that doubles as a mechanical service center, Vergil is grateful for Morrsion's help and connections, finding relief that his car is in good hands.

The older man chuckles at his venomous proclamation of taking over the 'authority's' power; he didn't know how to react to that. "Whoa! Oh, Vergil, that'll be the day, huh?"

"Me, Dante, You, Trish, Lady and anyone we know disagrees to their authority…" Vergil declares, confident of the weight of what he just said. "If we ever take over their power...you think, perhaps, there'll be a new world order?"

A long breath escapes Morrison, thoughtful with his brows knitted. "I don't know. What about your father? If, hypothetically, this whole thing stops, you think you can peacefully just get the information about where your father is? Or what happened to him?"

"Hmph." The questions that whirl inside his head are all given answers, but of course, there's no proof how correct and precise each answer is. What would happen when their world becomes at peace with the beings that are deemed 'evil'? The Rights Organization seems so confident that the answer to this violent divide is being kind and sympathetic, to care and be understanding. And yet they are in conflict with the ones in charge, the authorities that make demon-hunting allowable, yet unpredictable, dangerous, inhumane…

It would be better to live a life without this current reality...and perhaps, the chances I can't have as I am would be attainable...would I be able to learn about our father? Would she love me then? Would Dante be better off without 'this'?

The laugh that escapes Vergil is dry. "I suppose we can find out. We're all just trying…"

"Hmm, true." Morrison responds, equally dry in tone, but the heaviness of the subject and the questions that follow embrace them like the cold, biting wind of February. The old man checks his watch and grunts. "Gotta go. Family's making something special for dinner. I'm also dropping hints that we're going to spend quality time this Valentine's Day."

Vergil suppresses a wincing look, just from the word 'Valentine's', as he turns to face the opposite to avoid eye contact. Pride is a bastard thing to have…

"I'll see you soon, Morrison."

"Same! Good night!"

The two men part ways as Morrison takes his Ford Torino Cobra out of the parking area while Vergil has borrowed one of Dante's bikes, a dark cherry 2001 Moto Guzzi Café-Racer, as his temporary ride. He cruises down the path back to the main area of La Piuma and finds it, as expected, alight with Valentine's-themed decor. The red, white and pink lights warm the still wintery-white February, further instigating a panging ache inside Vergil.

As he cruises past the main plaza of the town and out into the countryside, down the wide intercity road that can take him to Enamel city, to the Devil May Cry office, he releases these emotions again, vulnerable with his own (or against his) thoughts; his mind wanders among the possibilities and the hypothetical; daydreaming of how it all could've been smoother between him and Kathalina. And how he wishes he can remain friends with her if she gives him a chance.

If she gives him a chance…

He knows himself well; he has the propensity to choose solitude as his mind plays cruelly with him, of thoughts and emotions that will never see the light of day, or he hopes won't see the light of day. He knew he himself will rue the day he lost control; he prided over not making too much of a deal of his own fears. He'd rather not. He deeply knew the very reason for his solitude and control…or is it suppression? He wouldn't know how to deal with himself when the consequences stare him in the face.

And yet, he was drawn to Kathalina. It was gradual; he had never really thought of her besides as a colleague, but her simple gestures of sympathy and observing his quirks, and the fact she has a crush on him, is so…human, so feminine and instinctual…

That she saw something of him that she would cherish herself, it is a powerful thing…

But she has never acted on these emotions and was so complacent of it that it sometimes did feel like staring back at a mirror. He was always the responsible one, or so he liked to think so; always the one having to leash anything that can result in disorder or wrath, and he didn't want to be affected. The results would be devastating if he finished it. And Kathalina was similar; she is highly-organized, highly-observant and so reserved…

But he didn't want a mirror; he wanted who she is when she's comfortable around him, he wanted to know more of her when she trusts him. And perhaps, he wanted to share with her everything that they could be without judgment. And as much as he loves his solitude and being at a distance to be the observer, the coldness of such things, such habits, enclose him further; there are times he wonders if he truly is his genuine self when alone and if he could even call himself dependable to his only family left. He didn't want to look at his reflection.

Perhaps it's neither being human nor demon when he made that awkward leap to ask her in the library's booth. He was simply falling in love. And he still is, despite how he's quietly piecing together his broken heart. He is, in his head, still hoping his heart is still worth giving to her…

Is it?

But after the Fortuna Bridge incident, Vergil can see just how much he had already dragged her into his world, this dangerous half of him that demands of him more than just strength and willpower to cooperate with and control. It's a world eons away from a life of a stable relationship and a safe haven; it's a world rife with violence and their lurking, dangerous presence, and holds refugees that are seeking for peace, to distance themselves from that brutal world and into this world, wanting to forge a better one; because if they ever go back, only Heaven and Hell will give them one path that will never give them another chance…

And he, along with his twin, and their allies, and those who are in 'authority', are in the midst of this war.

And so help me, I WON'T let Kathalina be dragged into this again. Not like how father did to mother…

His twin had been expecting him and was actually sitting close to the right side window of the office, observing the slum urbanscape. He does admit, he's almost about to droop from sleepiness, but he's glad to have held that off. The sound of that familiar purr of his motorbike moves closer to his viewpoint; Dante watches his twin park the motorbike outside the office, at the right side of the building. He can see the haggard spirit on Vergil's slightly drooping shoulders, a rare occurrence, yet something Dante is usually privy as his brother.

He welcomes Vergil in, a signature sly smile on his face as he mocks in taking his twin's jacket off him. He does know Dante's being nice and sympathetic, yet he's energy has left him. All he can do is shuck off the outerwear from his body while his twin took it like a butler. "Take it, it's yours. I was borrowing it for today…"

"Ah, home sweet home, right?" Dante says in that usual mocking-sweet tone that's rife for banter. And perhaps he was hoping to get that out of him. Vergil, however, was bone-tired and he can thank his mental state for that. He collapses on one of the bar stools of the office's alcohol bar and groans.

But his twin has more surprises and he's not leaving him alone for a few minutes. "Aw, tired already?" He asks as he whips out his bulky, little old smartphone against Vergil's face. "I was just scrolling through this fun little app and was happy to find some cute pictures of you and your class around my sweet bike!"

"Ugh…" That groan came from somewhere deep within his soul, cringing at how he had indulged in such a thing. "Don't remind me. That app can do that on its own."

"You look like you had fun, though." Dante comments nonchalantly as he goes to the alcohol bar for another round of whiskey.

At this, Vergil manages a grin. "Hm. Speaking of fun, I need to speak with you regarding Marcelin…"

---

Kathalina had seen it: pictures upon pictures of him…With some of his students, posing around a cherry-red motorbike, his smile—small it may be—still speaks volumes of his happiness and a carefree side.

She read the amusing captions made by the ones who posted these silly moments around the campus and comments revolved around the beautiful motorbike, teenage banter and some pointing out how they've never seen their professor smile and relax like that before. And she agreed. But she never makes a move to leave an emoticon or comment on the pictures, not wanting to be traced that she had been stalking the social media of anything unusual that's happened.

I guess, technically, I am witnessing something unusual.

Besides the day-to-day banter and casual photos, posts regarding the Fortuna Bridge incident and its reconstruction, the university is under higher security staff to remain open, a psychological technique to assure the people their safety despite remaining open. Similar trends have happened to other institutions as they discuss the lenient attitude towards supernatural creatures they 'allow' existing alongside the neighbourhoods. The very avenue her apartment stands on is littered with cops patrolling and reporting to one another, all while a news reporter would stand at certain spots to give live footage and report of the quiet area.

She must say, however, things are quite untroubled so far. The only thing that is troubling her are the news regarding the whole incident: the fact that many people are quickly blaming the Prowlers as a whole for the incident, despite the clarifications that the wild, mountain-dwelling ones weren't the dangerous Creep involved. The story makes it clear that black-marketers are just as responsible, yet the people are more fearful of a group of innocent creatures that had nothing to do with it. And, from the way Ann has to be kept secret from the public, her existence and story aren't in any news outlets; she must remain classified to keep her safe. And by safe, they meant from public persecution and overt curiosity.

It does boil her blood that she finds the supernatural side of things about the world is just steep in bureaucracy, narrow-mindedness and conspiracy, lots of it. And she's become a part of it!

She had been observing her neighborhood through her landlady's window—having been temporarily taken in, bless her—whenever she can, in between sorting out insurance paperwork to cover losses and architects that will help her in having her apartment back. There's no doubt that some of the uncommon faces walking about in plainclothes aren't civilians at all, while their uniformed counterparts mill about with suspicious looks, noting anyone and anything as their potential targets.

Perhaps, it's not as untroubled as I thought…

Some of the police had come to report to the tenants of the apartment regarding Anfisa, who had to be taken into a mental health facility—as the corroborated story goes—to recuperate, and the criminals responsible for the ransacking of Kathalina's apartment. She was even set aside to discuss with her about the details of the 'destruction of property', but the reality is, of course, she was being fed with the rundown of details that she should tell her fellow tenants and colleagues from work. She maintained her composure; she's innocent, a victim, a witness and their savior after all. They won't get her and get through to her.

One of the 'police', however, was much warmer and sociable towards her. Kathalina recognized her and did her best not to reveal that when they first came in, though not the same can be said with this person.

"You'll be fine," Trish had said, comforting her and placing a hand on her shoulders as assurance. "I work closely with Vergil and with the Rights agency. We owe you and Marcelin Halfield a lot."

She nodded and did her best to let her know she was grateful. But the unease of the whole thing is still evident from the way some of the cops still mill around, even beyond her neighborhood. Josh, who had to go to school because it remains open, had been flabbergasted at his school's sudden wave of police and extra security measures, he recounts to her. Even during weekends, the height of Valentine's Sales in malls, plaza stores and such, an air of zealous watchfulness was off-putting to a lot of the folks of La Piuma. Of course, this was for safety reasons; yet it felt like the situation is waiting for an inevitable outcome…

And she felt it through the news, the social media circles, through her neighbours…

And amidst the whole three days out of the two-week leave she was given by the library, Kathalina wanted nothing but to know more, to do more. She knew who to turn to; she could've turned to Trish discreetly, yet the watchful eyes of the police who seem to hover around the blonde demon hunter is telling how she's under their thumb.

She knows who to turn to and it came in the form of his email.

"Kathalina,

I hope this message finds you well and know you can contact the following if you encounter any issues pertaining to 'certain' situations.

Moving forward, this is more than just assuring you I'm here to help you. I also want to discuss with you about what has happened and if our relationship should come to a respectful closure. I don't blame you and I am asking for forgiveness, hopefully face-to-face. Any time you want that to happen, let me know."

Yet she is unsure if she could, or should. She had pretended she had never read the email at all these past three days. She had busied herself in discussing with the landlady regarding the renter's insurance and even about anyone she knew who could restore her vintage wardrobe—a remnant from Kathalina's beloved grandmother, who passed away before she could see her in her last high school year—to the most trivial things, such as making it up to her for even letting Kathalina temporarily take shelter by cleaning the apartment, cooking for her or even buying groceries, anything to take her mind off the inevitable. She knew herself well; she is never, never going to be prepared enough to talk to Vergil. Hell (oh, quite the word choice!), she's not even sure what exactly is she afraid of!

"Oh, Ms. Lombardo!" The landlady had had enough of her fussing over making sure the customary get-together the apartment does on some weekends looks and goes over smoothly. Kathalina had practically done everything: from placing the chinaware and even to cooking the main course, a large beef pot pie. "Please, you're straining yourself! You work yourself to the bone, like…like you've done something! Please, don't make me sit you down!"

After that, the landlady had calmed down because Kathalina stopped overdoing things and enjoyed the whole affair, as the tenants wished Kathalina good luck and to stay in the apartment despite the troubles that befell her. The people talked and sympathized over Anfisa's case (Kathalina was glad they didn't connect her to it nor was too curious), wishing they could at least offer aid; the talk then went to the recent incident and the growing dread that's surrounded La Piuma suddenly. Despite the sobering stories (which explains the plentiful wine), talk of celebrating Valentine's with more food and jokes about making children during the holiday, it was, overall, a good Saturday evening; and perhaps something Kathalina wished never ended.

"Oh, Kathalina, when will you stop stooping over your work?" Her landlady had noticed this Sunday morning. "I thought you're given a two-week leave? Don't tell me they've sent you work over that computer?"

"Uhm…" Kathalina didn't want to lie to the woman who took her in. She had a full night's rest, yet the jitters of the hypothetical situation of Vergil coming over or seeing him across the street is making her unable to think properly. It is, after all, Sunday, the day of their date together, which is not happening anymore, from the looks of it. "Yes, you're right. But no, the library didn't send me anything. I'm just…checking if we got the right contacts regarding the renovations and the carpenter that said she can restore my wardrobe."

"Goodness sake, dear! Get away from that computer and eat your breakfast!" And from there, the landlady admonishes her further about ignoring the breakfast she prepared for Kathalina an hour ago and for being a worrywart, adding in about the wrinkles Kathalina will gain should she keep this up. Glumly and politely, she does as she's told and decides to sort through some of her salvaged belongings to see if she can fix them or not. And…

And, as she is being honest with herself, she would rather spend the rest of the day doing the most menial things and just…forget it. The inevitable breaking of what little was there will come to her and to Vergil; he is a wise man, after all, and he would've gotten the message clearly. Why would he even go for someone so, so plain? There's nothing remotely exciting about her, compared to him (especially now that she's found out what he does outside his university job)!

She's a mere librarian in the university here in this idyllic town of La Piuma, whom she picked over a dozen offers from cities near to where she used to be in high school or college, with some near to the elderly center where her dreadful mother sleeps, eats and waits for her scheduled visits. Her only two blood family who truly loved her was her father, who was killed by a syndicate, dying from brutal methods she dare not even think about; and her grandmother, who was truly more a mother than her own parent was ever to her. They say her mother still suffers from denial regarding her father's true motive as to how he even ended up being at the hands of organized crime; her mother had attested every time he came home late to cheating behind her back or doing illegal things without confirming it to his own family. There was some evidence he has been in red light districts, gambling houses and even to another part of the city through security cameras, talking to someone who's identified to have been a local gangster. Yet, these deeds felt the opposite when he's home and at work; he had close friends who—to that day during his wake—couldn't believe of every incriminating thing he's done; he treated his daughter like she was the world to him (and he tried to do that to his wife, though her suspicions usually manifested aggressively and violently) and promised his mother, Kathalina's grandmother, that they would live somewhere nice soon.

That never happened. And Kathalina grew up deciding it was better she found her own way without having her family with her anymore.

She's reserved, she's professional and she's complacent of the little, quiet and safe world Kathalina worked hard to earn. The last thing she needed was to be reminded of her fears and how she dealt with them: by running away. Everybody fears the unknown and the uncertain, but she feared it because she felt so unworthy of knowing or the belittling feeling for simply being unaware that certain issues and information are coming and going, and she feels helpless to have not stopped it at all. And worst of all, is the part of knowing the end: the end being futile after all.

But…

But Vergil hasn't made me feel that…

She knew of this man for his immaculate looks and even more immaculate intelligence, organization and charisma, something the word 'admirable' only began to cover. She had recently known of his feelings and his attraction for her, and how it felt too good to be true, but so gentle to have her not fear that it wasn't so. And now she knows that he's basically doing undercover things, demon hunting, as well as being a supernatural entity himself! That is a lot to take in and she's afraid. But the real question must be: is she afraid of him simply because of his true nature and his hidden side? Or is she afraid because she will never live up to someone like him, his actual life, the demands that go with them and the reality that their 'love' is a mere passing glance and worth only a pebble to be tossed away across the water?

Why would he even go for someone so, so plain? What does he see in her that she already sees about herself, in herself?

That doesn't matter. It shouldn't matter.

The afternoon light bathed the wintery February with the most contrasting colors of warm gold and silver, passing through the thinly-curtained windows of her landlady's apartment. She had finally finished sorting her belongings and is ready to move to the next stage: fixing some of them. Her very old bunny toy had been sewn and re-sewn so many times over the years that Kathalina felt she's not about to give up this gift and memento from her father. She'll grow old with it, she thought with a contemplative joy in her heart.

The knock on the landlady's front door has her landlady getting up from her cushioned settee and setting down her hot chocolate and novel, to see who it is. Kathalina merely listened as she continued to inspect her old bunny toy while the sound of the front door opened. A familiar young voice piped up and asked, "Hello, sorry to bother you, but we just came to see Ms. Kathalina Lombardo. I just need to give her something important."

Kathalina can feel her world shifting and her heart beating and dropping at the same time! Finally leaving her guest room, she sprints and finds Marcelin Halfield and Trish just outside the door! They look awfully happy to be there.

"Oh, really? Why don't you come inside for a few minutes?" The landlady insists. "It's chilly outside. And this fine lady is not wearing a thick parka at all!"

Trish's smile widens, further making her foxy stature and barely-winter-fashion of a fitted zip-up jacket and tight leather pants with red-hot high-heeled boots a puzzling concern. Even Kathalina agrees Trish should wear something warmer.

"Oh no, no, please!" Trish waves a hand to decline, her smile the only thing that she wears warmly. "We're only here to give Ms. Lombardo this."

And with that, Marcelin procures from his pocket a business card. The landlady turns to gesture Kathalina over, which she does with her mouth agape. Despite her body and mind protesting and making up words of denial, her heart made her walk towards the young man before him and take the business card. The light object bears the words of a private agency, the typed names and its contact details, when they are needed for service.

"Devil May Cry…" She murmurs and glances up at the two visitors.

Marcelin's youthful face and innocent energy genuinely touches her as he says, "It's your turn. You should try reaching out to him. He's been moping about it."

Kathalina couldn't help but recall the time she had laid on the floor and tried to remain conscious; seeing a spectral version of Vergil, sickly and coughing, wanting nothing but to do something right. And her remembering her own promise…

"…no matter what happens…I did have feelings for you…and whatever it is that you have to hide from anyone, you don't have to be afraid of telling me…especially me…if I weigh you down…at least, I want you to know…you're free no matter what, Vergil…"

"Please don't take too long." Trish spoke. "I have other matters to deal with, but preferably I would want Vergil's twin to leave the building anytime today and I am hoping you can help with that."

Marcelin speaks again, clearly pleading. "I hope you two sort it out. I feel that it's a bit of my fault for this whole thing. But anyway, I'm glad I tried to find one of the agents in this private company! So...I guess this is all up to you now."

Awkwardly saying their goodbyes, the landlady closes the door behind them and, slowly, glances back at Kathalina. She had not spoken to them at all and Kathalina feels guilty for being so rude and too dumbstruck.

I can't believe this! Marcelin! And Trish! They want...perhaps even Dante is in on this? No...I—!

"Ms. Lombardo…" The landlady began to say but as seconds ticked by, whatever words she wanted to say never made it out. With a shake of her head, she decides to return to her settee, with her hot chocolate and novel.

There is this blaze that suddenly gripped Kathalina to her core. She clenches the calling card and stuffs it inside her robe pocket.

Glancing up from her novel, the landlady observes the young woman pacing back to her designated room and closing the door behind her. She reveals herself after a few minutes, lugging a large cloth shopping bag and changed into winter clothing, ready to leave the apartment. "I'm going! Please, don't wait for me! I have the house key! Goodbye!"

Kathalina's whole being is singing in this newfound energy. She finally admitted there, after having that business card, that she is indeed attracted to Vergil! That she's just as responsible in making things right! And how dare she let fear isolate her and make her irrational? She can't let this go on! And so, she must end it!

Her hurried footsteps crunched the snow and the soles of her boots thudded across dry parts of the sidewalk. She must look suspicious against the plainclothes agents and cops patrolling their street, but she didn't care anymore!

She's ending their suffering, once and for all!

"Ms. Lombardo?" A familiar male voice called her out from across the street.

She turns her head and sees both Trish and Marcelin in one of the area's parking spaces. It appears Trish is about to leave the teenager for him to catch a bus, while she is to take her motorcycle.

"What's on the shopping bag?" Marcelin notices, pointing at what Kathalina is bringing with her.

"Oh this?" She shows him the content of the bag, which appears to be a large red coat. "This is Dante's coat. Vergil let me borrow it and I'm bringing it back."

"I'll give you a lift," Trish offers her, a wicked smile across her face. "It's about time Dante and I head out somewhere anyway. He's been cooped up in his 'office' avoiding some of these major assignments, which should help pay off his debts!"

Both Kathalina and Marcelin appear quizzical at this, exchanging glances. It seems there are issues in the agency that need to be done.

Back at the apartment, the landlady sips the hot chocolate and grins in a satisfactory manner, reading her romance novel, picturing Kathalina and that handsome college professor as the leads of this riveting plot she's enjoying.

"...'bout time."

---

"You're awfully quiet." The laid-back voice of his twin has him pulling out of his own mental conundrums and turning to Dante, who is uncharacteristically tidying up his desk office. "Usually you'd grouch about everything here in my office, but...well, you okay?"

The look he gives Vergil is telling that he had come to a realization and regretted asking. It has been three days now, three days since the Fortuna Bridge incident, and it's frightening Vergil. He had been acting out of it, trying to look composed, trying to steep himself in work, trying to ignore that today is supposed to be his date with her…

He had been doing his best to move on, not bother her at all and just busy himself with work, as always, as usual. It is just after his short time back at the university, grading the exam papers of his students and preparing his outline for the next topics before Spring Holiday comes, and had returned to the Devil May Cry office to arrange the newly-sent and printed files of the Fortuna Bridge incident, into the filing cabinets. Dante, despite his laziness, is reliable and provides a humorous background noise for his mind while he silently organizes the papers.

But now, he's a deer in the headlights.

"I'm always quiet." He retorted, feigning annoyance so he'd be left alone. He would rather go back to his own thoughts, full of questions with hypothetical answers of nothing in particular, busying his mind and heart to not stray about her.

"Not this quiet." He remarks after settling down the portrait of their mother on the dark desk. "You, uh, need a break?"

He didn't immediately answer him. He pondered about how dangerous it is to stop. "Maybe…"

That puzzled look was there on Dante's face before he quickly smirked, shaking his head. He looked over his begrudgingly quiet twin, finally coming to the right conclusion and he can see that Vergil knows that he now knows. "Really…"

"Just…leave me alone." Vergil murmurs through gritted teeth. He takes a deep sigh and regrets even sounding a smidgen annoyed at his twin. A twin sigh comes out of Dante as well and it appears he's decided to leave that topic to help himself to a glass of alcohol on the office's bar. Seriously, why did he ever let Dante have this indulgence in the office? Focusing on that issue instead whilst he arranged the files, he lets Dante observe him quietly while he lifts the glass of whiskey to his lips.

He had swamped himself in work these past three days. Yesterday alone was horrible; Dante needed to finish a small assignment after Morrison's tip and it's here Vergil suddenly tagged along, reasoning that Dante needed him. He had to rein Vergil in, stop him from overanalyzing the entire thing or even going on an even more frustrated tirade against the Authorities, and definitely from even torturing a dying low-life demon. Dante realized he needed to use his trump card: by stepping out of line.

"Vergil, will you knock it off?" Dante warned his own twin, a threatening, gritty tone. "We know we're not gonna get anything from this! And you're the one hindering this little assignment I can take care of by myself! So will you please get your shit together?! You know you're doing this to yourself! And don't ever wonder why Ms. Lombardo won't even want to talk to you, given how you are right now! You definitely deserve whatever pain you're feeling because of what you lack!"

Dante can see the nerves twisting across his twin's system. The way he stood up too slowly, his back turned, his eyes glaring at the tortured, scared-shitless suspect and the evidence left behind by a bunch of cultists at the floor; he stands too still and walks away, without looking at his brother, in such a mechanically-poised manner. Usually, Dante found pleasure in irritating his twin, but that time yesterday was truly horrible. He can guess that this is the last time Vergil volunteers himself in these small assignments.

Vergil would call him a 'has-been rock star and an asshole'; Dante calls him a 'fucking diva'. And today, Vergil truly is a mopey little giant diva. But he does feel sympathy for his twin; but if Dante was being honest, he's not really the type to comfort his twin when it came to love. But he has to try…

"Look, bro," Dante tells him after finishing his whiskey. He props his bare arms on the bar counter as he speaks, "Stop blaming yourself. This was…unprecedented. Please? I'm sure your big brain will come up with something so you can talk to her or grapple with your feelings about this."

The seconds ticked by and Dante sighs, watching his twin's back still turned to him despite being busy. But Vergil's small voice and the words expressed does surprise him. "Thank you."

Dante smiles. It's not a happy smile; if anything, it feels like a defence mechanism. "You're welcome."

He had watched his twin unfold a table and chair, placed his immaculate navy leather flap-over laptop bag on top of the table to pull out his laptop, about to continue clerical work; whether for his school or for organizing files for Devil May Cry, Dante guesses his twin will eventually do both, anyway. Vergil gradually turns to look at his brother, his usually well-combed, slick-backed hair falling down across his forehead and tresses at the back standing at odd angles; he had come here from the university, dressed in his luxurious trench coat and business casual fashion, as if nothing of yesterday or of any of his behaviour remains concerning and continued to work, but now a bit too strained in politeness and silence. His brother spoke much rarer and 'bantered' as was necessary, but not how it usually would go. There's a leash that Vergil has made around his neck and Dante hopes his twin will cut it.

The glum, muted mood on Vergil's face spoke too much of everything, despite this stillness. Dante waited for his brother to speak. He watched him as Vergil trudged towards the main office desk and carefully lifted their mother's small portrait.

Outside, a familiar motorcycle sashays into view and the sly smile on Dante perks across his lips.

The gaze Vergil gives their mother's face in the portrait is quite low-spirited. "I'm sorry, Dante. I can't excuse this failure. The things I've done around are bleeding from the fact I can't even face her. I do admit I don't know what to do. I offered her an open invitation that she can speak to me anytime she wanted, of her own time, through an email. But I'm actually…I think I'll still be ill-prepared to even talk to her if I see her again. I've always…seen myself to be at least well-collected enough so that I'm not shaken by anything. But I know I'm not going to be as cool-headed or composed as I want it to be all the time. But you're right. I have to solve this problem. I have to find a way for us to get closure. We can't avoid each other at school or…at the library."

"Or even here, in my office," Dante comments jokingly. That earns him a confused glare from his twin brother as he looks at Dante, who sets his eyes at the office's new visitors.

An uncharacteristic gasp comes out of Vergil, almost dropping the beloved portrait to the ground!

He had ignored everything when he spoke of his feelings, merely thought that a motorcycle came from among the neighbours in this avenue. He didn't care if it had been actually Trish; she's at least a little more vocal and straightforward, than Dante's either teasing or awkward sympathy, and wouldn't be surprised if she interrupted his whole pathetic monologue.

Kathalina manages to smile at Vergil, then at Dante, a bit meek in her posture, knowing she's not in a familiar or very cozy place. She turns around to Trish, grateful in expression. "Thank you. I brought Dante's coat back. And I hope you and Dante have a safe…work day." She says sheepishly, which Trish takes quite joyfully.

"No, no, thank you. This is definitely a good and lucky day for me, right, Dante?"

The daggered gaze Trish gives Dante is more than enough to earn them a nonchalant laugh and wide gesture from him. He strolls out of the bar and walks towards the coat rack near the office desk, where his black sweater hangs. "Well, this is my cue, then! Honestly, I don't know what to do with my brother myself! Unless he's not gonna be up to it…" Dante languidly takes his black, fitted sweater and, as he walks towards Kathalina, he takes the shopping bag from her and pulls out the red, winter leather coat, dresses up and tosses his coat over his shoulders like a cape.

He gives her an appreciative and friendly grin, as if to say 'it's up to you'. "…you can let me know. I'll give him a brotherly smacking in the face or something."

A gloated huff surprises everyone, as it comes from Vergil, looking annoyed. "You may try. And also, as co-proprietor, I think I should change the office's name to that."

That garnered a full laugh from Trish and humiliated blush from Dante, who just grunts and leaves, muttering colourful things against Vergil. Calming down, Trish places a hand on Kathalina's shoulder and squeezes it before waving goodbye. "Take care, you two! You can definitely give me a ring for a free ride if you need it! You have my number!"

As the tall blonde leaves, Kathalina paces a little towards the large window and watches the two argue; it seems Dante refuses to ride behind Trish on her motorcycle and is adamant in showing off one of his vehicles. She wonders the financial situation Dante truly has, after Trish had implied certain things about their occupation during the ride going here. It's quite amusing to see them, in a way that Kathalina begins to realize the humanity in the demon hunting business and the supernatural world overall…

She glances to her left as she sees Vergil walking forward the main double doors and shuts its many locks. Through the glass of the doors' windows, he sees the two hunters ready to leave while they bickered, their voices muffled. It seems an agreement finally came about and the two hunters went to an adjacent building, towards the made-up garage. With reluctance, Vergil's eyes finally meet Kathalina's for a second before moving away from the door.

The silence surrounds them despite the natural sounds of the building and the wintery outside world. As she folds the cloth shopping bag inside her coat pocket, her mind and her sights wander from trivial things, such as being grateful that she had chosen weather-proof calf-high boots that can navigate slippery frozen puddles and a long alpaca woollen skirt to keep her legs warm; or how the office's building looks, smells and sounds old, with the wood's small creaking sounds and the smell of dust collecting somewhere, coupled with the stench of stale food mixed with alcohol; how strangely fashioned the trophy shelves and weird hanging decorations are, compared to the more-pristine liquor bar and the beautiful vintage jukebox are fitted into this high-ceilinged building is, contrasting the slight neglect, dust and mess; and finally the dark ornate desk showcasing an old-fashioned telephone and a few magazines is set in the middle of this office, with a filing cabinet, a foldable table and chair beside it, a laptop and flap-over bag on its surface. Kathalina surmises that's where Vergil works; it looks awfully cramped.

Vergil clears his throat and that snaps her attention to him. The blushes across each other's cheeks are palpable; but unlike him, however, Kathalina nervously combs through her long hair and squirms in her spot.

"Would you like some tea or coffee?" He offers; his Adam's apple bobs.

She takes in a lungful of air before speaking, avoiding his blue eyes. "Um, tea. That would be nice. Thank you."

He makes a small smile before moving on, but his head snaps to a particular spot in the room and he looks a bit panicked. He turns to her again. "Ms. Lombardo, take the desk chair or the bar stool. I'm afraid I wasn't able to clean the sofa."

She nods and merely moves to sit on one of the bar stools. Her eyes followed to where he had been gazing before he entered the door to where she surmises is the office's kitchen. A lone, thick reddish sofa sits beneath the staircase, definitely tucked almost out of view from where she stood near the front doors; this sofa, from where she sits across, does appear dusty. A coffee table accompanies the furniture and on its surface is a candy bowl filled with colourful candy, likely for guests.

Kathalina takes another deep breath and, looking at the door where Vergil disappeared to, she decides to take one candy from the table. Realizing she had not told him and not wanting to be rude, she trots as quietly and quickly as she can as her fingers go for it—

Her hand recoils as her eyes widen!

These are NOT candy!

Her mind registers the myriad of wrapped, colourful condoms inside the bowl! Now closer to the sofa, she can see that the upper parts of the sofa is dusty, but not entirely the cushioned back and armrest parts of it! Her mind realizes why she couldn't sit here and, perhaps, Vergil himself is a bit repulsed by it!

As quietly as she can, she hops back onto the bar stool, in which time he sees her sit and pretends she didn't find out, as Vergil reappears through the kitchen's door. Holding two mugs of hot tea, his expression however reveals he may have known she walked towards the sofa. He grins apologetically but his brows quirk at her. "Yes, well, you now have an idea of what kind of sibling I have to deal with."

"I'm very sorry," Kathalina immediately says and stands up from the stool, her hand reaching for the mug, hoping to relieve him of being the generous and hospitable host, holding a mug of tea for her. He releases his hold as he lets her take her drink. She looks up at him and he feels a fondness at how petite she is against his stature. She continues, "I…I thought it was candy. It looked like candy…"

It's here that his lips break into a wider grin. He looked away from her momentarily, settling himself on a bar stool, but his blue eyes followed along her figure as she sat again, looking at her boots and up to her face; he observed how she tucks her hair behind both ears before giving him her full attention. Clearing his throat and pretending (or hoping she didn't see) that he had not been ogling at her, he settles his mug on the bar table; and tells her humorously, "Yes, about that, you weren't the first. And usually people are put off by it. You can wonder how he can even have clients stay."

Kathalina does her best to suppress a snort and a chuckle. "I'm sure the gimmick of having twins as the proprietors and a very attractive biker woman as co-worker are quite intriguing. And that trophy set with those strange decorations." She glances at the trophy shelves behind the ornate desk. When her gaze lands back to his face—with the way his eyes are transfixed on her but his expression is tranquil, not at all intense—she loses her train of thought and stumbles on her words. "That's…I mean, w-well, I think…people would definitely think you guys do a great job."

The way he holds his gaze on her is both uncomfortable and alluring, and that in turn made her even more uncomfortable; she nervously averts her gaze and takes her warm drink of tea. Realizing he had been staring, he releases a long breath and mumbles, "I'm sorry." He nervously places a hand on his mouth and slouches further onto the counter.

She doesn't know what to reply to his apology, let alone to the way he apologized: his voice low with guilt, his posture tense and shoulders hunched. All she can do is be quiet and sympathize. She'd just be like that if their positions were switched.

He licks his lips and finds himself too aware about even doing something like that, too aware of the moist feeling across his lips. This unexpected visit from her, this proactive and likely spontaneous act, has him unprepared and he feels angry at himself. Vergil can't believe how he's behaving inappropriately, wanting nothing but to gaze at her. But instead he's engaged in this purposeless small talk. He needs to do something. "Ms. Lombardo…"

"Call me Kat or Kathalina." She tells him, sounding a bit bold. He looks up at her and she gives him a polite smile. "No more formalities. May I call you Vergil, at least outside university?"

If he had been captivated by her before, he certainly is more so now. He nods and hopes he doesn't look foolish. He gradually straightens himself up, becoming aware he had slouched as he sat. "You've called my first name before."

"Yes," she says matter-of-factly, averting his gaze as she turns pink. After a few seconds of nervously glancing at her tea and at the floor, she clears her throat and looks at him straight on. "Vergil, I apologize for coming here unexpectedly. Marcelin came to the apartment with Trish and…he helped me realize I needed to get things straight with you. I am also apologizing to the way I've treated you and your brother. I've no low opinion of what you do outside of being a university professor, but I am concerned and in the dark about this or of the true nature of…what you are. I do admit I've had unfortunate and limited experience with demon hunters, having been among the people my father used to have secret business with. He's gone now…and I'm okay. So here I am. I am very thankful that you saved me and Marcelin, and that you've kept Anfisa safe and that the Prowlers are, from what I have been given of the truth, they are being kept safe as well."

Having listened to her, Vergil chuckles but stops himself and covers his mouth with his hand curled in a fist. "Marcelin? Hm…of course." So she didn't get here as spontaneously as I thought. Still, this wasn't planned…That kid is meddling with my love life…

"Don't be hard on him!" She says, her hands coming up in defense for the young man. "Please, he's young and…It was my decision…"

"Actually, we are very thankful to the two of you for saving our lives, Kathalina." Vergil iterates. His voice is no longer that uncharacteristic low and breathy tone he had been sounding earlier. But he indeed sounds tender, something she never thought would come true. "I'm thankful for Marcelin's efforts. He's under my protection." But he adds quietly, "And my responsibility…"

She catches those last words and her lips smile wider. "Looks like you owe him."

He notes the playfulness in her voice and he leans towards her a little. "I do. He's sort of my apprentice now. I'm glad for what he's done."

"Yes, me too." Kathalina adds, grinning sweetly.

The silence envelops them once again, but this time there's a warm mood linking the two of them together. Although they do react awkwardly and avert one another's gazes, their smiles and glances at each other speaks enough of how they want the other, how they need to make their next words and actions just right; they sit next to each other, yet they tentatively come closer during this quiet moment, appreciating each other.

"Vergil."

"Yes?"

Her lips quiver; she had already thought of the words and thought they sounded logical. But now, Kathalina feels her throat drying up and her lips becoming too moist to speak. She looks away from him, her fingers suddenly nervously tapping the bar counter and then her nails scrape against its surface. She rethinks her words again, all the while the little voice urges her on…get a grip, you can do this!

"Kathalina…"

"I'm ready."

He looks at her, confused, as she finally glances up at him again. "Ready?"

"I'm ready to listen to you. Know more about you. That's what I'm good at, gathering information. And that's why I'm here. I might as well find out something about this." She swallows hard, looking deeply at him and leaning more towards him. "I want to know more about you and what you do, what you fight against. And if there's something you must know about me, I don't like being in the dark about important things. All I'm asking is the truth. I'm not going to judge you. I'm not going to spread anything about you. If I know all of this, you'll see just how I can handle it. Not as well as you or any demon hunter, but…I just want to know you and help you, that you can trust me. I don't want to be afraid."

The way she looks up at him shows how much she fears, perhaps not just of him, but the probability that she could've gone on with life not finding closure with him. He feels the same way, feels that they are similar when it comes to wanting the truth.

She begs at him, her voice breathy and tiny. "Please. I want you to know you can trust me. You have me as a friend, not just a colleague. I'm yours to trust."

The way she sounds, the way she looks up at him as she pleads have him feeling a sort of way, a feeling deep in his core rumbling with an instinctual desire. At the same time, Vergil looks at her with sadness. He can now see and hear her insecurities and fears; how much it took for her to actually bare herself to him, this desperation to want to know him and deeply understand him, and make sense of what had just happened to them three days ago. He wants nothing but to lift away her anxieties and hold her in his arms, so drawn to her fervent way of trying to test the waters outside her comfort zone. He can't find any reason to refuse her…

"I do trust you, but you must trust me, too." Vergil tells her, his voice lower. She takes a short breath as she hears his voice: vulnerable and a note higher than what she's used to. "You have to realize that I wanted to share these things with you in due time. But because of the things that's happened and certain forces watching over, this moment came sooner than before I could predict them. But trust me, there are things that aren't for you to burden. Please, Kathalina…"

She looks up at him becoming confused. His blue eyes twinkle but it's framed by this dark, ominous feeling. This time, he pleads for her and it makes her a bit uneasy. "I'll tell you who I am. But don't go looking for…more. There are dark forces around us but not truly coming over yet. And that's my job. I make sure they're kept at bay for as long as I can."

A memory clicks inside her head. The meeting with the palaeographical and folklorist team this coming 14th! And him studying the 'Legend of the Savior'…

Kathalina recalls now every time he would be reading certain books in the library that definitely do not pertain to his History or Sociology classes; and those well-organized bags and suitcases, each keeping files for his 'personal research'! Her eyes widen in recognition and memory, and Vergil gives her a small grin.

"Would you like to know who my twin and I are now?" He offers, as if the weight of the realization wasn't still bombarding her mind.

"Vergil…" She whispers, concerned, and even reaching her hand to his, squeezing it. He looks down at the action, feels her soft palm against his slightly calloused one. He glances at her and smiles; this time it's a smile that tells her how much she means to him, that their emotions for one another had grown and he cherishes how it still will.

"I'll be right back." He tells her, settling her hand on the bar counter with a light squeeze as well and leaves her. He runs to the staircase and bounds up to the second floor, his heavy foot falls and the push of a creaking door indicate his haste to get what he needs. As she is left there in the bar area, Kathalina is feeling too many things at the same time; she feels a bit stupid for blurting out too much and for sounding so desperate and too bold! And she went to touch his hand to hers! She is scared! What has she suddenly asked of him? She squirms in her seat on the bar stool.

I asked too much! I said too much! I—I can't believe this! I'm getting what I wanted and I don't like it! And I barged into this office because I just felt like it! I was 'inspired' by a teenager and leather-wearing tall, blonde lady to get here! My presence helped Trish in having the excuse in taking Dante away, so I can have the opportunity to be with Vergil! But this is completely unplanned, I am uninvited! How could I be so rude? Vergil should've refused me! Vergil shouldn't be excusing me and my actions! And I could've just mailed Dante's coat to this address!

After practically barging through the bedroom door, Vergil scans the room and the faint memory of how Dante had haphazardly 'unpacked' his belongings across this very room. His eyes dart across the soft cream-colored bed—which appears to be the only thing cleaner in this room (and perhaps, to Vergil's relief, it should be so since he did sleep on it three days ago)—to the bedside table with a lopsided lamp, a dusty beanbag accompanied by an unusually large stuffed bear doll; all the way to the old cabinet where his twin's clothes are clinging on an assortment of different clothes hangers and even peeking over boxes that Vergil can tell were from the day Dante moved here. He opens the cabinet and goes on all fours to look into the small built-in dressers, boxes and even a backpack he recognizes as Dante's old high school bag.

He goes for another box tucked deep inside the cabinet and, before opening it, sees that he has found it. Across the legal tote box's surface was a taped note, scrawled in Dante's familiar writing, it says: family stuff.

Vergil closes his eyes and embraces the box. Dante had never opened this. Sure they have photocopies of the legal documents for their identities, for property records, contracts, etc. down at the filing cabinet and through digital back-ups kept well by Vergil and Morrison.

But this…

He knows Dante has a way of coping with things. He always thought Dante saw the tragedy as a reason to get into this demon-hunting business and put up this office. But now Vergil questions if he needed more help; if he should have done more for his brother.

Holding back tears, he summons a spectral blade to cut open the tape and pull the flaps to reveal some of the photo albums and old diaries Dante kept. Vergil has his half, whilst Dante has these, as part of halving all their familial objects to keep. He's sure he's going to have to face Dante soon about this mess. He's sure that his brother's going to feign annoyance and probably make an optimistic remark about this; but Vergil knows the two of them hold their family past gravely, deeply and still like fresh wounds, even after all these years.

And now, Vergil must share this part of him with Kathalina.

She remains in her thoughts and mulls over more words that she can string up well to Vergil, hoping they sound respectful and not as...desperate as she had been before. She hopes the tea she has finished while Vergil is upstairs is strong enough to keep her nerves in check and that she isn't going to jitter and sound nervous in front of him.

She had just taken in a deep breath when Vergil's footsteps came softly above and came down the staircase. She turns to see him holding an old hardbound volume, held tightly to his chest in one arm. Kathalina watches him as he turns to the filing cabinet next and smoothly pulls out folder after folder from the drawer. It seems he knows exactly which ones he needs to show her. She wonders, if things had not gone south, he would've likely shown these things, as he had wanted to do anyway. Her curious expression morphs forlornly, thinking about the what-ifs and the could-haves…

We should be dating tonight, not here in his twin's strange office. I would have gushed with my friends on a video chat, asked them endlessly what I would wear on a winter date...but...would finding out about Vergil like this be so bad?

She recalled of the controlled Prowlers invading her home, the way Anfisa's face and body contorted in anger and anguish of the brutal past she endured; the uncertainty that she swam through while she was unconscious; her and Marcelin, hoping and shouting against the void, hoping their words can be heard and break the spell…

Either way, now that I am about to learn so many things about Vergil, about his world, what difference could I make? What can I do in his world? What will happen to me?

Kathalina pictures herself closing up the library, in the middle of the night, suddenly feeling a creeping shadow just beside her. Or up ahead, during her commute, before the bus arrives, she would see a strange figure standing too still, looking at her too eagerly and making her uncomfortable and scared. Or perhaps even a visitation by the 'police', not unlike the ones who accompanied Trish before or the ones outside her apartment, coming into her home and whisking her away for a supposed importance, only to find out that Kathalina would never again set foot in her apartment, the library she works for and see the familiar faces she's become close with.

Will life be like this now when—if Vergil chooses to be with her? What dangers and mysteries are going to have to threaten her or those close to her? Will she handle it? Will she be let off if Vergil discerns that she can't—she isn't—made to withstand his world?

Her fingers twitch on her thick skirt, her nails digging at the fabric.

"I'll tell you who I am. But don't go looking for…more. There are dark forces around us but not truly coming over yet. And that's my job. I make sure they're kept at bay for as long as I can."

Those were Vergil's words to her, words of caution and worry. Is he worried that she would do something reckless? Are the things—creatures—Vergil and his colleagues deal with in an almost day-to-day life going to affect her, too? And what would they expect of her to do about this? What would a normal human like her do?

Kathalina looks up and straightens in her seat as Vergil approaches her with a soft grin, presenting to her the hard bound volume and the stacks of folders for him to explain. She hopes she doesn't look nervous; she wouldn't want to lie to Vergil if he asks her if she's alright.

"Here they are," he says with a note of wonder. "I'm a little sad he kept this album hidden. But I guess my brother's not the type to look back with fondness."

She realizes the large hardbound book is a photo album and she couldn't help but beam radiantly. She would see him in his younger years and looking at children's faces always makes her giddy. Vergil had opened the photo album for her to look and go on ahead. She teases, "Well, it looks like I'll also see the fashion evolution of the twins!"

He chuckles and retorts, "Yes, the two of us in diapers are quite the vogue look." He walks away again, but this time to pick up his mother's old portrait from the office desk.

Kathalina already knew of his background, but perhaps he needed to expound further and showing her their family would give her a sense of understanding. All her worries have been backed at the corner of her mind as she beams at the pictures of their mother holding them as plump toddlers, already with their strangely white-blond hair sticking at odd angles; or of the twins, this time as small children, playing and looking up at the camera's point of view, as if inviting the camerawoman to play with them. Their mother, a beautiful woman, of course, but also just charming in the way she photographed her sons: on the floor crawling, on the small bathtub while wailing, or sleeping on their shared crib; the way she captured the two boys running across grassy fields at a certain distance or their dirty, curious faces grinning at the mess they've made.

She is beautiful, but in the most radiant and cozy way, as if her features and movement are raw references of painters, proof of a powerful and charming feminine being.

And she looks familiar, Kathalina thinks, her features and her blonde hair…

There's even a picture of the three of them, the mother and her boys at a very young age, standing close together outside a very beautiful home, surrounded by the gardens this small family probably maintained. They smile with no care in the world, the boys hugging their mother's torso while hers are encircled around their tiny shoulders. She sees the date at the bottom of the photo and feels the world suddenly shifting…

"There was an epidemic back then," Kathalina muses, recalling the events in the area. "About more than a hundred people died, mostly elderly and immuno-comprimised. They immediately sent out vaccines and contained the area in this city you once lived, but unfortunately some people were driven out of their homes by their own neighbours before the response teams could stop the migration. You shared to us that your father and mother became sickly and your father died first…"

As she recalls, Kathalina flips back on all the photos she's seen. Her eyes widened; she had been so distracted by the charming photos and the cute, adorable faces that her mind didn't register nary a single photo of the twins' father!

"This photo...this one," she iterates, her voice quivering. Vergil approached her and gently laid down his mother's portrait next to the photo album, along with presenting Kathalina a folder. Opening it, she finds an organized group of photocopied news material regarding the sickness that took place in the city. Kathalina then looks to see the face that brought up the twins before she would soon perish...but now, looking at this photo and the dates during the height of the outbreak, it seems clear now she never perished from the sickness after all!

"Your background about your family, it's made up! This was taken during the height of that epidemic! She would've taken you two and migrated out of this city. But she would succumb to the illness in 2 months and die, while you two were saved by a hospital in a different town, and taken care of by your new adoptive mother, your mother's friend Margaret and grow up in Angelavale…"

Vergil remains silent as he peers at the photo, looking at his and his brother's faces, and then at their mother's.

Kathalina gasps, her eyes on the small portrait of their mother, the one from the office desk which Vergil took to show it to her. She even flips through the photo album again, feeling the insides of her stomach churn. Their mother's face looks like Trish's face—!

He finally opens his lips to say, "Mother loved that shawl. It smelled of lavender and petrichor. She loved to garden. She grew strawberries."

Kathalina swallows and gazes at the broken man beside her, still mourning and pining for a different story than this life he and his twin got instead. She has no idea what to say to him.

She is still reeling from the fact that his mother and Trish look exactly almost the same! The only difference is the way Trish makes herself appear in public, with the big possibility of her being not human at all, Kathalina thinks; with Trish's edgy fashion, elegantly put red lipstick and neat, highly-arched brows, smoky stare and throaty, deep feminine tone of voice, is the opposite of Vergil's mother's charm and natural appearance—regardless of the fact Kathalina will never hear his mother or even meet her in person!—barely any makeup and her expressions reaching her bright, warm eyes as she stares and beams at the camera, forever photographed in a state of euphoria.

Are they twins, too? But how could that be, when their mother is years too old than Trish or them? Is Trish related to the twins, then? What is going on?

"I…I don't understand…" Kathalina says under her breath, comparing the two women's faces, trying to find a difference, but realizes these were his mother's actual photos; she takes note of the faded and sepia colors of the photos. Have there ever been actual photos of Trish? Looking back, the only time Kathalina ever saw Trish is in real life; there had been times she tried to locate her social profile on the internet, but there had been none and chalked it up as having privated her account…but now, it's even more possible now that Trish may not have any social profile online at all!

Without any cushion to the blow, Vergil pulls up another folder and reveals Trish's 'identity': a model and a travelling landscape painter. But the suspicion that there's more to it, Vergil lays it bare to her: "Trish is, as you may have already suspected, a demoness. She's on our side."

Glancing up to his face, her expression knotted in confusion, she asks, "And how—why does she look like your mother?"

"A Demon King, by the name of Mundus, tried to bewitch me and my brother that night over a year ago," Vergil expounds, as if he's clarifying a subject in class. "I had followed her and tried to kill her, but Dante spared her. We ended up on an island that turned out to be a place of ancient worship for this Demon King, and she hoped to awaken her master. But it seems she changed her mind halfway through and even saved my brother. I tried to defeat Mundus by myself while Dante closed the portal, but the two of us ended up having to work together with Trish."

Kathalina's mouth became even more agape as he continued his story. He clears his throat. "Yes, long story shortened, Trish was made to appear like our mother, Eva…to manipulate our feelings. Who knew the Demon King had an idea about Jocasta Complexes..?"

He knew he was reaching when he tried to amuse her about Freudian references, but he slightly regrets it now. He observes her expressions, a gamut of confusion, anger even and the story finally clicking to make sense, her eyes blinking hard in disbelief. She stutters, "Uh—oh, well—that—I mean...I'm glad all three of you made it."

Vergil didn't dare add anymore. His lips became a hard line, thinking now that the only way to pick up from the meaningful tone from earlier was to just explain from the beginning. As he takes a breath, preparing himself and forming the words inside his head, Kathalina makes a distressed sound that halts his mental preparation.

"Trish was once your enemy?" She sounds incredulous, even scared. "And a Demon King? Being worshipped? Does this 'king' have a personal connection to your family? To have thought of using your mother's face against you and Dante? And your father? Is he—?! Oh! He must be…But then, where did he go?! Couldn't he have been there for you?!"

"Kathalina…" His sombre voice is calming, yet the timbre in it hints a weighty subject that Vergil intends to finally share with dignity. He places one hand on her shoulder to soothe her thoughts and his other goes inside the collar of his navy sweater to bring out a gold-chained red amulet, letting it rest on his chest. Gazing at the jewel and at his face, Kathalina watches his eyes close and small intake of breath. And after that, he began:

"More than two millenia ago, the Demon King Mundus and his Court invaded the Human Realm to claim it as their own. Enslaving and devouring every earthly being as they please, from amongst his elite ranks rose one rebellious demon. His name was Sparda. He went on to fight the Demon King himself, slew and imprisoned countless demons, and sealed them all back to their Hellish Realm. For a while he was exalted by the humans as their divine monarch, ruling over a population as their Saviour King in the ancient kingdom of Fortuna.

"But when he grew tired of his position and realized that the Human Realm was ever changing, he mysteriously vanished from his throne and went on to travel the Human Realm, watching over the Seals he's made, ensuring no legion of demons would come over to the Human Realm. He would do this for the next few centuries…until, just thirty years ago, he met a female human and fell in love with her. He decided to settle with her for a while, marry her and begot the twin sons of Sparda.

"However, he soon disappeared once again. He left his family a home and these two amulets, a gift and a burden. For you see, these amulets are among the key to one of the main seals that held numerous demons imprisoned. It is in this amulet that our father had entrusted to us the responsibility of protecting the Human Realm and every good that ever exists, but it may also mean that he knew his demise was inevitable, but how he knew and where he went, is unknown. He failed to protect us that fateful day…when the epidemic those demons created struck the town, a group of demons had soon come to ensure Sparda's lineage's destruction. And they—they killed our mother that day…"

The hand he used to show the amulet grips the gold-framed jewel tightly, his eyes distant and for a moment, Kathalina thought he was going to cry. But he merely puts the amulet back underneath the navy sweater as he takes a long, deep breath, before continuing:

"The epidemic was almost effectively deadly if not for the human advancements and response that inevitably made the panicked people listen, and stopped pushing away so many of the people that were once their neighbours, although it seemed many had decided to leave even after they had been treated. But while the sickness had spread in the area and almost made it into a medieval era-like situation, another more sinister group was ordered to make a direct approach, came looking for our house and set fire to it. My mother grabbed us and made us hide in the basement while she ran, hoping to distract the demons and away from our scent. The fire department found the two of us and hospitalized us, and contacted our mother's friend. But a few years later, even under the care of her friend Margaret and in a different place, the demons managed to trail us. So young we were when we learned to use our powers at full force for the first time.

"Poor Margaret…she has kept our powers hidden and excused us as much as she could. The 'Authorities', the ones who some of us hunters answer to, have contained the epidemic…but failed to save our mother, nor did they have done anything to prevent these assaults from the demons in the first place. The best they did was to try to cover up that fire as an electric accident and expunged any history of us being there at all, hoping our trail won't exist…"

As he bares his past and discloses to her his suspicions, Kathalina's mind reels to the things she has thought to be a quirk of his and realizes just how peculiar he had moved around: his preference for his solitude in the private booths of the library, his confessions to his colleagues about 'not being able to sleep' that night, his very specific requests for information on the university's library and even asking for contact information on different experts; and of course, his twin's 'eclectic' behaviour and Vergil sometimes speaking to certain people who look like they don't want to be seen in public…

"Hold on, let me get this straight…" Kathalina holds up a hand as she straightens out the story so far. "So your father rebelled against his own kind and even became a monarch, in Fortuna, the current little city just next to the town of La Piuma and then left? And he was called the Saviour, likely the same figure of the myths…centuries later, he met your mother and would have you two, but left for unknown reasons…and the epidemic, as well as the fire in your house, was because of the demons…they were hunting you down. And these mysterious 'Authorities' you keep mentioning…they didn't do enough, is what you're saying."

"I'd even go so far as they had let this happen," Vergil says, a tone severe. "For years, I've been wondering how it all happened. Where our father went and how he met his demise, and the fact our mother had to sacrifice herself…I want the truth."

She lets out a breath and rests her face in her hand, finally understanding, but also mortified. These two men are living today because of their parents' sacrifice. And Vergil is hoping their deaths had not been for nothing once he uncovers more about the reasons for their early tragedy…

He continues, "I've been in a lot of places, looking for my father's trail. I had been to the places he had been for the last half a century, but I can only travel so much while under different jobs and finishing my last master degree. It had not been fruitless, however; I've learned of the hierarchy of the Worlds we exist upon. Some call it the 'Axis Mundi', a misnomer but otherwise an intriguing concept about the way the Human or Mortal Realm is connected to Heaven and Hell.

"From there, I thought about going back to where our father had been when he met our mother, start the trail fresh, look at the most obvious clue, which was Fortuna City. I decided to accompany my brother after he had offered that I was to be co-proprietor of his office. After learning more and more about the way the 'Authorities' control supernatural events, the concept of 'Axis Mundi' is something I couldn't ignore. I have been dreaming of how I can infiltrate one of their places to find all the right information I need, maybe finally incriminate the 'Authorities' on something. But I have to start small, for now, so I am investigating myths and folklore, legends the people have made of our father and kept alive by devotees in Fortuna. And that was how I ended up in La Piuma around a year ago now."

She had glanced up to him, watching him steady himself by placing his hands firm across the bar counter, then relenting to sit on one of the bar stools and continued to expound his story. All the while he moved like there was a weight around his shoulders. Her hands went to cup her own face and mouth, comforting herself from the truth that he had just unloaded upon her.

"I can't believe it." Kathalina whispers and purses her lips. "Well, I do, actually believe it. But…I can't believe it."

Vergil only makes a nonchalant hum, or at least he made sure it sounded like it. Observing him, with his eyes scanning anywhere except landing on her, Kathalina realizes just how uncomfortable he must be in revealing his past. He actually looks vulnerable.

"Your mother would be proud of you both." She suddenly tells him. His eyes quickly darted to her, reading her. She feels a bit stupid, but that was the first thing she thought of. Their poor mother is everything to them and here she is making a posthumous assumption that she'd be proud of her sons. If she were in her shoes, alive, she'd probably be worried to the point of losing her own head.

"No…" Vergil replies, a small grin forming. "She'd be worried, very worried. We would never hear the end of it."

A giggle comes out of her but she suppresses it immediately, finding it inappropriate for whatever reason. He, however, smirks but doesn't add anymore. They end up gazing at one another, and from the way he smiles softly, Kathalina relaxes.

She tries to cheer him up, after recalling one of the things he said: "You know, your father, Sparda, was it? He never abdicated the throne nor did his subjects at that time abolish the monarchy. Although Fortuna City is as modern as any city, that doesn't mean it wouldn't accept back the ancient divine throne and lineage as its active symbol and culture! And since you and your family took his name as your family name, it's pretty bold evidence that you and Dante are the descendants of the lost Saviour! You and Dante are technically princes, and your mother a consort queen of Sparda!"

With that, it seems successful in distracting Vergil from whatever grim thoughts that might have been haunting him. He smiles at her, his teeth showing. He asks, "Why, would you want to be my princess consort?"

"What?! No!" That surprises her, which made Vergil laugh, as she clarifies herself, blushing and shaking her hands as a negative answer. "I was just saying, because your father, it seems, just left and from what I know about the culture among the traditionalists in that city, the people never made any official move to abolish his vacant throne. And I thought to cheer you up about that."

Still beaming, Vergil does relax, sighing. "Thank you. But I'm sorry to disappoint but we abdicate. We'll probably abolish it ourselves."

"Hmm, I thought so." Kathalina replies and decides to change the subject, wanting to continue the light-hearted mood, though she treads carefully. "Um, Vergil, if you don't mind my asking, what was your mother like?"

Thankfully, he doesn't take it as a grim subject, and seems eager to share more. His eyes twinkle as he recalls to the days of his childhood.

"I guess she's just like any mother, really. She has a lot of fire and joy, watching over us like a mother hawk, too. She had a lot of expectations and wanted us to be the best little boys she has. She often talked about our mostly absent father in high regard. When we misbehave, she'd compare us to our father, and would tell us how he'd never behave like that. Also, she grounded us a lot and made us do chores."

She covers her mouth, trying to suppress the loud howling sound of her laugh; her imagination envisions the twin men as children being so much for their only mother. She finds herself looking at the open photo album and finds one where they are in her garden.

Vergil leans over and recounts one tale: "She took care of the gardens and grew a lot of vegetables and fruits. Strawberries were more abundant. She'd call for our help to pick all of them and put them in baskets. One time, however, we were too excited and just dug into the soil to grab all the potatoes that weren't ripe yet and uprooted groups of them, so we ended up ruining half a supply of what would've been, I think, mashed potatoes and potato stew."

And she laughs again, making these choking-like sounds and even a hiccup-like sound under her hands, covering her mouth. Vergil can only imagine just how loud and wide her mouth would be if she let herself laugh shamelessly. He beams at her as her shoulder shakes from imagining how he and Dante, as children, ruined a little potato field.

"We have a lot of strawberries. My mother said our father enjoyed the fruit and she planted more. Maybe…she hoped he'd come back and find the garden full of it." Vergil recalls, his tone becoming sombre.

Kathalina distracts him again. "Did she bake them? Made strawberry cakes and other sweets?"

He chuckles and peers at her, a twinkle in his eyes as he recalls. "Yeah, she did. Although I must say, she's an intermediate type of baker and bread was quite difficult for her to do. I remember her strawberry croissants not looking like how it was in the recipe book. But we love eating the fruits, since mother forbade too many candy, so that always got us excited...we got too addicted to them. There were times me and Dante would volunteer then compete in picking the fruits. We'd compete with who's the fastest, or who got the best-looking ones. Or we'd end up competing against each other to see who can eat the most."

She can hardly contain herself and soon she laughed with her mouth open and he joined her, the both of them comfortably laughing and finding the way they sound to be hilarious and infectious. Catching his breath, he manages to continue, his lips wide from laughing. "We got stomach aches eating them, but we didn't care. All we cared about was winning. We continued even with our cheeks bulging. It was stupid."

"Oh no!"

"We ended up almost emptying the strawberry field. Mom got angry and grounded us, she went ballistic! She made us do the Broom Duty, basically sweeping the entire house clean for a week. Even we competed in that one! We ended up dusting the actual roof of the house!"

The two of them laughed again, cracking up and holding their stomachs for dear life. She ended up leaning on the bar table and shaking her head, trying to comb back her long dark tresses as they got tangled from the way she almost couldn't control how her laughing body should be. She spurts, "Oh my goodness!"

Gradually calming down, Vergil whispers, "Yes…those were happier days…"

Breathing in and eventually letting her laughter subside, Kathalina moistens her lips and looks for the words she needs to express. She feels a bit dizzy; juxtaposing the hilarious antics of their childhood was the tragic losses the twins endured, and endure they still do. Vergil, in particular, wants to avenge his parents by means of making sense of what had happened and continues to struggle to find truths that overlap with their past.

"So your powers…yours and Dante's, they came from your father, but…" She stares into his light-blue eyes, finding herself appreciating Vergil even more. "Who you are now, is because of what they left behind. Their love for you and the hope you would go down a path that's overall righteous…"

The feeling is so incredulous, powerful…Kathalina now knows who and what they are and…the larger world that they have to navigate alongside other people who struggle against beings who see their existence to be, at best, a nuisance and deemed unworthy of living; and she can only fathom what they really think of, say, humans like her overall, under this larger world they exist upon; 'Axis Mundi', he had said. And those feelings of newfound power coming from discovery and being confided about, being trusted upon, gave way to anxiety. She thought she could handle the truth; she thought she needed it. But it seems, for her, not knowing and knowing the truth goes both ways…

"I don't know what to say, Vergil," Kathalina confesses, staring at her clasped hands with a disquiet that gradually made her shake. She hugs herself as she feels a clammy coldness travel throughout her. Strong, large hands cover her shoulders and a broader body comes close to her back, warming her.

She didn't need to ask, but she glances up to gaze at Vergil, who looks concerned but manages a small smile as he kneads her shoulders and even the top of her back. "Thank you," she tells him as she even gathers her long brown hair away and into one side of her shoulders. "I have to be honest, I can only imagine what assignments you and your fellow hunters must do. Or what you yourself do outside of university duties. I can only hope to be your respite…or at least someone who can find information on something!"

Kathalina blushes. She didn't mean to say 'respite'…it all fell away from her lips naturally.

"Kathalina."

"Yes?"

"I hope to be yours, too."

She tried to suppress her mouth from hanging open and swallowed, looking everywhere, except him.

As she hasn't responded, Vergil let's his hands fall away and continues, his voice smooth, slow and murmuring. "Kathalina, I trust you. And if you don't mind my straightforwardness and being open with you, I want to be with you. I want to try. I want to make things right between us, have a solid companionship with you, if you want me to be yours. So I want you to know that you do have a choice, and that telling you the truth about who I am, who we are, is your burden, but not yours only to carry, or the sole requirement to be with me. I…I just…want you to know. Do you still…would you still want to have my companionship, knowing what I am?"

There, he had done it. Vergil, in so far as he can see, has done what he can. He didn't want to persuade her; he wants her to see that what she's learned is hers and that she's important to him. He would rather that she be safe than choose him…

But what if she chooses him? What if she reciprocates?

I can only do everything that I have to protect her, give her what I have…

It's funny how the concept of 'unconditional love' exists, yet it is an undoable and foolish thing. How can love be unconditional? Love itself needs parameters before it can even be considered love. Love between people needs certain conditions for it to become a solid relationship and to sustain it needs even more conditions.

Would he and Kathalina, one day, not work anymore, if they did become together? It is something he personally is anxious of, but perhaps it, too, is something he cannot fathom at this moment…

I can't even fathom either if she rejects me or accepts me…

"Vergil…"

She turns and glances up to him again, her beautiful eyes, a curious mix of grey and green, anxious and perhaps a candid look of someone hoping things do not escalate. For a year he's known and observed her, Vergil recognizes she may have a form of anxiety, yet she has not been diagnosed, nor does she fully give in to her weakness. Perhaps, someday she'll find a way to face her demons instead of choosing to swallow them down…

He finds himself unconsciously placing a gentle hand on her shoulder and leaning his face to hers, until he finds that he can feel her warm breathing against his skin. She opens her lips and he watches, listens, feels her beating heart through her thick winter clothing and spread across his hands. He wants to pry his touch away, feeling an overstimulation, but he can't…Kathalina's presence is an enamouring thing…she is enamouring…

"…I can never truly find a reason why you found me, of all women, to be someone for you. But I can't deny I want us to progress. I feel like all I've done was escape from my own past. But three days ago, after everything that's happened, what I've seen and what I have done, I think I should have more faith in myself. Maybe I can do something for you, even in small ways. And maybe, everything that I have, I hope they're enough for you."

He pulls away from her, feeling the kind of heat he only ever felt during a rigorous battle; now here across his skin while he stood still, not sure what to do with what he just heard. "Kat…you're beautiful, and I mean it to say that, in so many ways, you're beautiful."

She looks away, beaming, looking across the bar table, tucking away her hair behind her ear. When she finally finds the courage to look at him again, she nods, "Thank you."

The both of them understand that she's still wrestling with finding a way to appreciate who she is and to let it sink in how Vergil already sees so much good in her, and would want to spend his good qualities with her if she so chooses him.

Her eyes lock on a bottle of liquor on one of the shelves and, giggling, stands up from the stool and teasingly reaches behind the counter. "Well, you know what, this bar thing is useful after all." Her hand finds a glass tumbler and laughing, playfully wiggles the glassware, to Vergil's amusement.

"There were times I'm glad I didn't demolish it." Vergil confesses. "But don't tell that to my brother."

"I won't," she promises, her eyes twinkling and smiling wide. "You and I seem to have unconsciously made a deal that this is our secret. Isn't that neat?"

Kathalina isn't sure herself, but this bubbliness and joy about secret things was usually ever reserved to her closest friends, and not even to her library colleagues. She had forgotten what it was like to candidly make something stupid and laugh about it without a care; most of her mid- to late teenage years was rife with being polite, behaving well so people would take her in and find no excuse not to help her; she behaved and did things as orderly as she could, and even prided herself that her friends would turn to her when it came to speaking to adults, to job interviews, etc.

She looks down again, almost shaking her head, realizing she had just acted so guilelessly, perhaps too playful. "Ahem, sorry. I'll put this glass back…"

Vergil reaches for her hand holding the glass. "Oh, no. Maybe you'd like to?"

"Oh no! No no no no no…" Kathalina shakes her head and goes on to put back the glassware. "I'm really sorry."

"No, it's alright." Vergil assures her, equally smiling. He admits he finds this side of her so pleasant. He hopes he can open up her shell a bit more; but that would mean she would open his as well, as he has done so regarding his family. To him, it is an equal and alluring deal. But something about what she said did bother him: she had said she lost a family member a long time ago. He would like to know more but he knows today is not the right time and he'd rather see her smiling, comfortable and doing pleasant things because she pleases it so.

"Um, I'll bring this mug to the kitchen," Kathalina offers as she stands up again and brings the mug she drank the tea with.

He stops her and assures her he'll put them there himself. "I really want your company."

Looking up at him, Kathalina can see he genuinely wants her in the same place where he is. She awkwardly shifts in her seat as she bites her lip, trying to suppress a big smile but she can't stop her blushing, so she looks away. Vergil's fingers cup her chin to direct her back to looking at him, as he gazes at her and loving the way she gazes at him, and loving the way she lovingly gazes…

"Okay…you want my company…" Kathalina playfully drawls out the words and comfortably places her chin on her own hand, resting on the bar table as she observes him. "What about it? What do you like about my company?"

"The way you know around the library, not just the right area where the information is, but the place where it's really quiet and has low invasion of privacy. I love the way you describe my favorite booth!" Vergil did not miss a beat at all when he answered and that garnered a loud laugh from her!

"It's true, though, that place is so quiet!" Kathalina adds between laughter. "The library is old. Three centuries. The private booths' renovation managed to maintain most of its historic character. We just added electrical outlets, wi-fi and a sensor to alert the computers at the security and one on the main desk that a booth is occupied. There are also a lot of stories of hauntings there, but personally I haven't seen any."

"Probably a student watching porn." Vergil adds dryly, making Kathalina raise her brows in amusement. He sounded so prudish at the bawdy statement he was hypothesizing about this porn-watching student. "Forgot their headphones."

"Okay, to clarify, observing porn isn't grounds for any repercussions; it is, however, a factor for counselling, provided they're caught." Kathalina replies. "I've definitely had my fair share of patrons taking advantage of the private booths. We don't judge anyone's lifestyles but all we ask is that they clean up after themselves and that we don't catch them with anything suspicious, or we'll have to take action, with the law if need be. And from my experience, it's not even students who are suspected to be doing something in one of those booths."

"Hm, and to think all the university's board had a meeting with is about the social reputation of the school and the funds supposedly going to a new construction project…" Vergil adds sardonically.

"Oh if you ever bring it up or hint it to the Head Librarian, she'll be making sure it's among the topics we need to discuss in the meetings!" Although humorously said, there's a worried look over Kathalina when she mentions the Head Librarian. "She's already adamant about getting more security on the private booths floor. She particularly despises liquor."

The two of them chuckle and Kathalina continues to divulge him of more ridiculous library tales and antics, and as he enjoys seeing her get enthusiastic his eyes flit to the main windows of the office. Night has enveloped the outside world and snow is stronger. He suddenly has an idea of inviting Kathalina for a digestif after supper somewhere in La Piuma, as he's heard from locals that they've set up more tents and a marquee restaurant to provide for more customers dining out, in spite of the snowy weather today. Of course, that would mean going out with her, actually revitalizing the idea of their date night, which would also mean she would want to progress their relationship a little further.

If everything goes smoothly, afterwards, he and Kathalina can have more riveting or hilarious conversations together; enjoy that vintage wine he's bought—

Vergil suddenly sits up straighter; his eyes wide and realizes something. Kathalina immediately becomes tense as she stops her story.

"Vergil?"

He comes close to her again and places a hand on her shoulder, reassuringly squeezing it. "No, don't worry. It's just…I was supposed to buy a really good wine three nights ago but…let's just say it slipped my mind. I was thinking of inviting you to a digestif but that would mean I'd have to ask you out…"

"Yes." She suddenly replies and takes his hand to hers, "It's our date. And we deserve a break, from everything we've gone through."

The way he looks at her feels like she's grown two heads. "You'd like to go out with me?" He asks breathlessly, sounding in disbelief. "I mean, alright, it's a date. I'm glad that you'd still take me…"

She finds his awkward little moment adorable; realizing that Vergil truly does take things seriously and likely was over-thinking anything that would possibly happen. Kathalina hopes that one day, and even if things don't work out, her friendship with him will make him open up a bit more and relax, as she has with him.

He continues, while looking around the Devil May Cry office. "I'm actually a bit relieved you didn't take this place to be too disgusting for all our conversations. My brother barely makes his only place presentable. And I have to convince one of the hired cleaning services that there was no murder that took place in the bathroom. It was…quite the conversation with the detective."

As Vergil recounted the story, Kathalina giggled and gently placed her hand on his chest, rubbing it to soothe his annoyance. "Oh, Vergil. I'm sure Dante is…well, I'm sure you've done what you can for this place and Dante appreciates it. I'm sure he's said thank you before…did he?"

"I don't know, I don't recall any genuine gratitude from him about this place. But thank you," Vergil murmurs, his face leaning closer to hers, his eyes glancing at her hand across his chest and back at her face.

Kathalina stops soothing his chest and becomes self-conscious, simpering. Her hand maintains its place on his chest and she watches his lips curl into a small smile, his gaze from being annoyed across the old ceiling (which does have questionable looking spots of color) to a tender look with her.

Besides the time in the private booth back in the library and when he chaperoned her home three nights ago, this was the closest they are again. And the butterflies inside Kathalina are swarming and she couldn't take it. She can hear Vergil's heartbeat and even feel it on her palm!

"Kathalina?" His voice is silkier, deeper and tad nervous. She nods, drinking in every inch of his immaculate face; she hopes she looks okay, but from the way he stares at her, Kathalina feels like the whole world is right.

"I want you, sunflower, in my arms."

"Oh…" She sighs and readies herself for his arms…but he doesn't act. She looks at him puzzled.

He leans closer, whispering, his arms still and his pale skin turning pinker. "May I…embrace you?"

She nods. She can't trust her lips or even the rest of her body to speak 'yes', for some reason. It's shocking to even hear such a polite question, and yet, as his large and firm arms envelope gently around her, Kathalina realizes how much Vergil respects her and takes her being on a pedestal. And he called her a sunflower! She feels a bit guilty now for even touching his chest; she was too brazen!

He feels her settle into his arms and even the warm air of her breath. Vergil watches and feels her; her long brown hair curling around his arms and cascading down, the first time he's seen her let her hair loose versus when she's in office, always tied in different types of buns or braids to maintain a polished look. The top of her head grazes his décolletage and that's perhaps from her heeled boots. His arms don't tighten around her; all he wants is this closeness, perhaps something he had missed for so long.

"Your heart…" She murmurs, her lips beaming. She looks up to him and he is surprised to find tears. "You sound so calm."

"Because you're here." Vergil tells her, almost matter-of-factly. "And I've missed a good embrace."

"Me, too." She shares and she buries her face in his chest, joyfully crying. "You are warmer than I thought."

He couldn't help it, but his arms wound around tighter, pulling her to him. He knows he can be quite possessive, so he tells himself he's satisfied to have the woman that's captivated him just like this and nothing more. But his breath hitches and his nose flares; he can smell so much of her and hear her own heart beating faster. Her hand on his chest and the other across his back feels like a trigger for something she isn't prepared yet. His desire and his control wrestle, while he hopes she doesn't notice…

Kathalina takes a lungful of air and smells his fading cologne, a familiar scent she's smelled when his lingering presence passes by every time he's in the library. She giggles, "You know, it's stupid, but I think we're a bit similar than I thought. I think I would've asked you if I can embrace you, too."

"No, it's not a stupid thing," Vergil replies, this time placing a hand behind her head, feeling the silky, straight texture of her dark hair. "I think we do have some things in common. And I'm glad that we do."

He smiles sheepishly, finding their small talk a purchase away from his dark desires from surfacing. His mind wanders, appreciating the slope of her curving nose, heavily-lidded grey-green eyes, twinkling in joy, and her laugh, a lilting, musical sound.

And here, Kathalina can no longer stand it. She wanted nothing to do with her walls up anymore. If she was going to be foolish, at least she had known she had not done anything so harmfully wrong. That she had loved someone, damn it if it came with regrets, pain, joy, because she had done nothing but the desire to give happiness and be her genuine self.

"Vergil…"

Her boots move about from beneath them and he sees her face leaning upwards, coming closer to his lips. Vergil's heart beat faster.

Her dark pink lips open and he watches them form the words: "I want to love you more, Vergil. I want you. Please…"

He wonders how she can trigger his unbecoming too easily…

"…yes…oh, beautiful sunflower, I love you…" He whispers his answer back, leaning downward, their eyes heavily-lidded, their lips open. He feels her other hand travel from his back to curl under one of his arms, squeezing through to join her hand on his chest, her delicate fingers reaching his cheeks…

…and she can see his light blue eyes framed in half-closed lids, looking at her lips, as she looks at his long face framed by her very hands, his skin surprisingly warm to the touch, his breathing shallow, his arms wounding tighter and pulling her, helping her to lean up to meet his lips.

And they moan. Their lips touch lightly, tentatively; she feels him tremble and sigh a long breath. She pulls back for a while, hesitant, her brows knitting together. She glances and sees how Vergil's gaze darkens, his brows knitted in focus. His hand behind her head trembles and grasps her, as if pulling her again for a kiss; yet he groans, as if in pain, his mouth a hard line. She realizes he's trying to control himself; after what she's learned of his supernatural nature, she can only guess what stirs inside him and imagine the dilemma he faces.

But she can't have this. "Vergil…" She whispers, begging, lovingly soothing her hands across his face as he leans to her touch. "Please…I-I know that you're going through a choice…but I want you. I'll—I can take it."

He takes a long gasp of air, and trembles even further! A mixture of a choking sound and a groan escapes his lips, guttural in its sound. He takes another long breath, knowing he's making Kathalina scared, closes his eyes and calms down. "Don't. Please don't say that."

"I just did." She responds firmly. "I love you, and I want you. I know I'm being foolish…but I love you…"

And he relents to her gifts, her kisses and her touch across his hair. Kathalina kisses his lips and cheeks, embracing her to him as he stands still, his arms around her, breathing her warm breath and listening to her excited heart. As she gives him another kiss on his lips, he gradually opens his mouth and she tentatively licks inside before suckling on his upper lip…

Vergil groans, almost a low growl and he forms his lips around hers, taking her lower lip and pulling, eliciting a high-pitched sound from deep in her chest. Her hands wound upwards, grasping across his neck and pulling him down, and he obliges. His own hand across her hair grasps and rumples her dark tresses, loving the feel of them on his fingertips; his other arm pulls her, almost lifting her off the floor, but he doesn't follow through, letting her pull him down instead. He must say, he loves the way she enacts on her cravings for him.

Their kisses are deep; Vergil realizes Kathalina is quite experienced, but raw in the way she does it. The sound of their kisses is more than lewd and her moaning as he explores her mouth with his tongue is definitely not a sign of their long-repressed hunger to enact on their desires.

As they kiss and explore and even cuss at the pleasurable sensations, Vergil's hand trembles at the small of her back, not wanting to go past her hips. To him, every person has their own beauty; he knows Kathalina's figure is slim and average, nothing more or less…except for those hips. She doesn't dress as fitly as Trish or in accentuating the best features she knows, like Lady; just elegant and professional enough. But today, here, in her winter clothing, her petite figure and quite wide hips and thighs hidden inside a long sheath of a thick skirt has definitely triggered a deep part in him that he's not proud of, but only ever unleashed in private…or for an occasion like this.

He could not stop caressing her, but he limits himself there, just above her hips. And that dark side of him groans impatiently.

"…hmmm…" She moans against his lips as he releases a little hiss before continuing, pressing his mouth harder. Every move, she learns a little bit and hopefully he's taking as much as she's taking from him. She grinds herself up to him, instinctually being such a sexual feminine—for the only time she can remember doing—hoping he can feel her modest breasts and the way she breathes, making them move up and down, firmly planted across his torso. And what a torso! She can feel a bit of his muscles contracting and swelling with every breath and movement. His firm body, against her softness…she swoons at the difference…

He can feel his dark side trying to get out. He knows if he lets it out, they'll end up in a position they'll both regret. But he doesn't want to stop her kisses, her passion; she blooms here, a strong, enduring and lovely flower. Her body so pressed against him, giving and taking all at the same time. He loves the way she grinds, her breasts soft and her figure just as so; her hair is a mess and he swears her smell is imprinted across his skin and clothes now…

And of course, they can't deny the very proof of his desire for her inside his pants! Already tenting and sandwiched between his and her body. Oh, Kathalina even grinds her tummy and hip to gently caress his erection, gaining her an open-mouthed, panting Vergil barely leashing himself; and an opportunity for her tongue to explore his mouth.

He realizes they are heading towards a place they might never control themselves, letting their lust and desires take over, something he personally doesn't want unless they are ready. And Kathalina feels his hesitation, so she pulls back, after minutes of kissing her lover near oblivion.

"Kat, I'm—"

"No, no, I'm sorry."

"Me, too."

"I—I went…I went a little…"

"Yes. Me, too…"

Still holding the other, the two assess what had happened and take a breath to calm themselves down, trying to make the flames die slowly. Kathalina clears her throat, pink and her lips swollen from their kisses, she reaches on the top of her head to comb down her hair. Vergil straightens his navy sweater and combs his fingers across his hair as well; his erection gradually calms down, though his size remains slightly pointing up and towards his lover…

...lover.

"We had to stop." He says to her, firm in his voice, yet he appears weary, his lips rosy and sweat beading down his temples. "I had to stop…I can't…I couldn't…"

"Yes, you're right," she replies, adamantly nodding and combing her hair nervously. "I was stupid. I'm sorry."

"Kat—"

"It was foolish of me. I…I wanted you, so badly and I pushed your buttons. But we're not ready…So I'm sorry for doing that. I love you and I agree, we had to stop."

The quiet between them stretches yet neither are uncomfortable; if anything, Vergil slowly goes closer to her again and gestures his arms open for her to take. And she does. Kathalina languidly melts against his warm embrace, tightly wounding her arms across his waist.

They stay like that for a few seconds, listening to the old office creak a little against the snowy world outside.

…bbgbgbrgrllll…

The sound of a rumbling stomach cuts the quietude. "I'm sorry…" Kathalina says, humiliatingly. "I…I don't remember having an afternoon snack back home…"

The guffaw from Vergil is rich and infectious. With that, they've decided to continue the date night to get dinner and Vergil's plans to find that elusive vintage wine in LaPiuma.

"It's going to be a competition out there," Kathalina confirms as she scrolls across the screen on her phone, looking at the social feed of the pre-Valentine's commotion at the many night markets set up on the main public plaza, university area and some of the parks in the town. "If we ever find that wine you like, I'll pay for it. I kept us here for too long…"

"No, I don't really see that as defeat," Vergil tells her, a confident smirk across his face. He has gathered his coat and scarf, as well as the keys to the makeshift garage on the other building to find another one of Dante's vehicles for him to drive. Kathalina looks up at him, bewildered. He finally reveals his reason: "Well, I may not have the wine but I'll have you, anyway."

The subtext was everything and made Kathalina even pinker than before. She finally pulls on Vergil so they can leave the office.

---

The thirty-minute ride to La Piuma and into one of the night markets did make Kathalina sleep. The warm air from the modern conditioning unit inside the retro 1978 Chevrolet Monte Carlo made a serene temperature, cushy enough for her to set back her seat to doze off for a while. Vergil must admit that, despite Dante being careless about his financial situation (and that's not including his debts against Lady), Dante does have enough sense and taste to ensure he has beautiful vehicles that are in tip-top shape.

The falling snowflakes and rising fields of snow across pavements are illuminated by the active glow of the town's pre-Valentine's spirit, their lights cascading shades of pink and red across Kathalina's peaceful, resting form. He can't help but glance at her and decided to take a longer route to evade some of the roads he knows retained the pre-twentieth century unkemptness, so she wouldn't be jostled.

He did, however, have no choice when he spotted the first public park he's seen that's been set up as a night market; the road is trafficked with different vehicles and a throng of local and foreign tourists enjoying winter and the festivities. And with that, Kathalina woke and, realizing the difficulty in finding a spot near enough to park, volunteers to find a way to get their vehicle parked.

"Be careful!" Vergil shouts after her as she hurriedly exits the car. He watches her running and looking for any free nook that's at least close to the heart of the area where the night market is. But if things aren't in their favor, Vergil doesn't mind paying a slightly exorbitant amount of a park fee that's two blocks from the public park. The parking building is warm and isn't exactly too far. His phone rings, however, and her name in his contact list pops up, calling him.

"Hello, Kat?"

"I found a spot! Hurry! I spoke with a park constable and he's helped me find a spot! It was just after another car left!"

"Okay…"

He suppresses the words that were meant to praise her and decides that it's best to tell her in person. He steers the car to where she directs him and finds her figure and a park constable waving him over to the spot. He smiles, realizing the spot is overlooking beautiful scenery: a large gazebo, lit up with golden and pink lights, itself overlooking a frozen lake; on the other side of the frozen lake's shore is another part of town, dazzlingly-lit just like where they are now on this side. Framing this park, the lake and the other part of town are the dense forest of La Piuma, covered in a blanket of snow.

"This is beautiful," He tells her, the two of them getting closer and wrapping one arm around the other's waist or shoulder.

The two of them thank the park constable and he leaves them to do his duty again, mainly the traffic of tourists that endlessly flow in. The night grows in adolescence, but the blithesome, buzzing nightlife is making everyone young and briskly doing whatever they can to enjoy their time and prolong the activities they do not want to part yet. The smell of food, the excitement of the crowd, the purr of the vehicles and whisking bicycles create a kaleidoscopic world of stimulation, carried along by the gust of the late white winter air and fluttering, dashing snow.

And Vergil takes it all in, whilst his left arm remains around Kathalina's shoulders, pulling her close to him so they wouldn't be apart.

They braved the throng of people coming and going, running, walking and clumped together in groups. There's even a long line outside two large tents, clustered together by other small tents; a huge banner and mascot of a famed restaurant stands next to these two large tents, as well as winter-wearing wait staff control and feed their customers, are set up on the far side and more open area of the public park. Knowing they can't eat there anymore, the new couple have decided to journey the myriad of street food La Piuma is known for; Kathalina reminds him that she'll pay for his vintage wine, but he argues that's not needed. He does turn it around for her when he tells her he wants to enjoy the street food instead and that she can buy him the best, which does make her excited; so she goes to buy food, while Vergil goes to another kiosk to inquire for any particular vintage wine vendor that may still be around.

"Ay, try going to that place," one street food cook suggests, pointing to another area of the night market, flooded by a crowd. Sure enough, however, some of them are lugging a bag or two of branded bottles. "And there's also another seller on the back, near that restaurant tent and they're all the way from Italy. Good luck."

And with that, he finds himself faced with Kathalina, bringing with her their food, beaming at him.

"Thank you." He tells her as he is handed a hot hobz biz-zejt, a Maltese sandwich bursting with flavourful tuna, tomato, olive oil and olives, and the two enjoy the carefully-wrapped warm food. As Vergil takes a bite, she finds it quite endearing how he takes a very large bite and his brows furrowed in concentration.

"How do you find La Piuma's hobz biz-zejt?" She asks playfully, beaming and her own mouth still full.

He nods approvingly. "…first time."

She looks at him as if he had said something quite controversial. "Are you kidding? Come on, then! Go to that alcohol seller and I'll buy you more of La Piuma's gastronomically, international-level street food! It'll be a reward for finally finding that wine you want! You might think of pairing one of them with wine in one of the local vendors or shops in the near future!"

"I appreciate it!" He says and the two of them part ways. He goes to the seller he was told about while Kathalina goes to the next food vendor, buying whatever they have and storing them carefully in plastic bags, hoping they won't spill.

He finds some difficulty gaining the attention of one of the ones in charge, but finally one of the sellers beckons him and is given the selection they have left. Vergil, however, is meticulously picky; he finds that they are aged wine, but their oldest is in the year 2013. He tells them he will reconsider theirs once he changes his mind, and he leaves. He finds Kathalina with two full bags of street food for them to enjoy.

"You didn't have to get me one of everything," he chides to her, who is already pulling out one warm styrofoam container full of food. "Besides, I'm on a diet."

She glares at him in disbelief as she hands him the container. "Pfft. That's hardly believable, Mr. Sparda. I, on the other hand, need to diet and here I am not doing so!"

"You look alright, Ms. Lombardo," Vergil continues to jive, but he leans closer to her ear. "Although if you need help firming up your figure, I can most definitely help you. I would be glad to help you personally…"

His hand encloses upon hers, rubbing her fingers before he pulls the container off her hands. She blushes and retorts, "I'll ruminate about the offer."

Deciding not to look up at his face, she knows he's still smiling at her while he opened the container for his food. She takes a large bite and chews thoughtfully, keeping herself close to him so as not to be swept away by the crowd. She savours the light saltiness and crunch of the socca slice, inhaling the fresh warm scent of it, moaning her pleasure of having tasted the La Piuma version of this snack. Whilst she enjoys the food, she feels large hands coming to her shoulders and pulls her into him; just in time to evade a huge crowd of excited foreign teenagers, running and laughing as they went about their way across this section of the night market. She glances up appreciatively to Vergil, who does tell her, "I'm afraid I didn't find what I was looking for at the first seller."

"I figured that," she says. "Come on, then. Let's go to the second guy. Hopefully we don't have to drive to the other night markets."

As they continue their journey, he finds himself smiling. Although it would be nice to find a particular wine that would make him happy, he sees that it isn't the most important thing anymore. If he wants to spend digestif with Kathalina, he could find another bottle of liquor back in his penthouse anyway. He'd rather spend the next few hours awake with her…

"So, how did you like the socca?" Kathalina asks after finishing hers. "A little thick than the Monaco version, where it's popular, but I say its flavour and crispness, coupled with the fact it's probably a home-cook recipe, makes it so cosily good."

"It's alright," Vergil confesses, in a casual tone. She glances up to him and sees his mind is elsewhere. "…say, Kathalina. If I don't find the wine I'm hoping to find, would you mind spending more time with me? At my home? I would love to continue our date together there. I don't mind not finding a vintage wine. I just want to spend time with you. And finally becoming cultured with the street food you bought me."

She couldn't look at him for too long, turning pinker and warmer, almost cuddling herself against him. But then she remembers something. "Oh! That reminds me, we're supposed to have pasta."

Recalling her request three nights ago, Vergil feels a sense of inadequacy for not having remembered that detail until this moment. But either from fortune smiling down upon them (perhaps it's because it's Valentine's season) or because she simply caught on, Kathalina chuckles and tells him, "It's okay! I've decided that I'll gift you good ol' La Piuma-made pasta you can cook for yourself at home! You'll love it!"

And she grasps his free hand and pulls him to run to their next destination, near the large tent to find the last alcohol seller. The simple excitement of finding this seller, that elusive vintage wine and the mythical La Piuma-made pasta made her bubbly with mirth, pulling Vergil behind her and hastily making their way through clusters of families and throngs of people coming and going into the night market. She hears his soft laughing, amused and holding her hand tightly in his, serving as an anchor or even to pull her to stop if she might collide against someone. Her child-like excitement is something he never thought he'd feel relishing. He hopes he can equal that energy Kathalina must be holding deep inside her for so long…

When they do reach the last set of vendors and their kiosk, they part ways again so they can set out to find the items they need: Vergil is intensely conversing with this Italian wine seller while Kathalina went to the overflowing small marquee full of La Piuma merchandise and local goods. Sure enough, she has found the best local brand pasta that she herself swears by: protein-rich, with four grams of fibre, two grams of sugar and nine milligrams of sodium, made from red lentils. After purchasing it, Kathalina exits the marquee after squeezing through very meticulous shoppers and finds Vergil waiting for her, a victorious beaming smile on his face. He lifts the dark bottle high up in the air with one hand, with his eyes closed, his silvery-blond hair brushed, and a satisfied smirk on his lips, paired with this hum of relief.

"I found it!" He exclaims. "Finally! After months of anticipation and uncertainty, I found the perfect vintage! Oh, Kathalina, my sunflower, you need to stay at my house just so we can drink this sumptuous wine!"

"How old is it?"

"From the year 2000, Pinot Nero, from Tuscany! And it'll definitely make our street food feel more world class."

She couldn't contain her laughter just in time, snorting at the idea of pairing such an illustrious wine with cosy street food. But she does see the charm, knowing the food tastes so good and the company even better! She reaches around his waist and embraces him, saying, "I'm so happy for you!"

He embraces her back, laughing, cupping the back of her head and caressing her hair. "Yes, well…now I'm really asking if you'd like to spend more time with me back at my place?"

Glancing up to him, Kathalina nods her head. "Yes! Sure."

That victorious beaming smile returns and with that, he leans down to give her a kiss. She thought it was a quick peck on the lips, but was surprised to feel his tongue delving deep, his lips pressed hard against hers. She moans, both from his sudden deep kiss and to the fact that he kisses like there's no tomorrow.

Oh, what I will give to have tonight last longer…

She almost forgets or ignores the fact they're in a very public area! And she feels a bit victorious herself; never had she even thought overt public displays of affection were romantic to her. Making affection or adoration shown to someone while in public makes her nauseous, and in turn made her think it's a turn-off, an arrogant display, done by the uncouth. But deep down, she knew most of it came from her low self-esteem and anxiety of others' opinions, regardless what the culture surrounds public displays of affection.

Tonight, however, with the man of her dreams against her lips, she is converted. And more importantly, she's unafraid.

…a little.

She does pull back, smiling, but embarrassed that they did this in front of hundreds of people who are minding their own business and became accidental voyeurs, with some gasping at the sight of them standing too close, lips parted by centimetres and having done it near one busy little merchandise tent. Vergil smirks, a side of him that she realizes relishes in being quite cocky. And she thought his devil-may-care twin was supposed to be the cocky one!

"Let's get out of here," he tells her, his voice deep and honeyed. "I want a room all to ourselves."

She didn't need to argue with that as he pulls her close to him again and journeys back.

Their walk is serene, languid in their pace, one hand holding one bag of the food and drink, the other wound tight around her shoulder and his waist. He wanted a longer walk, with the two of them making light conversation about anything they can think of and ending up exploring a little outside the night market and into the narrower parts of the park and closer to the forest, where the shore of the frozen lake is covered in snow, where only a few people and constables roam in their own easy pace. She wanted one picture of the frozen lake with the gazebo in frame, admiring the glow of the nightlife; he offered to take a picture of her with the frozen lake and the other side of the glittering town behind her, her smile glowing as the photo was snapped. She shyly asks for his picture, which he approves and grins softly back at her, snapping the photo. There, while quite a little away from the night market, Vergil was happy to learn a little about night photography; they stood near the forest of the park, enjoying one another's company.

He encircles one arm around her shoulders again and pulls her close, leaning down near her lips but not quite touching. She giggles, simpering, feeling small and protected against his figure so tightly pressed against hers.

Kathalina gives him a quick peck, teasing him, praising him. "You're so warm, and soft, so handsome."

He responds with a low hum, his smile affectionate and his eyes drinking in the details of her face. She gives him more praises, more sweet things; kissing his cheek, caressing his skin, lightly raking her fingers against his coat. He returns each with a happy little hum and his lips against hers or her skin, even lowering his face to take a whiff of her against the crook of her neck.

But she murmurs something, her lips moving near his jawline, her warm breath titillating his skin. He didn't quite catch her words, and asked, "What was it you said?"

She giggles, shyly licking her lips as he stares at her, his eyes shining with patience. She giggles, but coyly tells him, "Will you be my blue rose?"

The blissfulness he feels makes him pink and yearning for her. One hand travels across her dark brown hair, admiring her shy and elated smile as she clings to him. She breathes heavily, liking the way his hand caresses a few of her locks in his palm; her eyes become heavily-lidded, her grey-green eyes twinkling. All her attention is concentrated on him and he can't help himself wanting to seduce her, dare her to explore their love. The feelings, these bodily reactions, he was having back in the office are coming back. And he can no longer put them aside. He wants her and he hungers for her body, her ecstasy and the thrill to feel her joy…

He murmurs back, "Yes, my sunflower." And he breathes a little deeper, biting his lips as he thinks of the words he had already chosen to say. His tone now is lower, quieter, with that unique deepness of his voice. "I love you, Kathalina Lombardo. And I am your blue rose."

Satisfied with his answer, she pulls him lower and kisses him, deeply, hungrily…

And the demon inside him roars in triumph in finally claiming his much-awaited reward.

It's a cold winter night. It's ridiculous. They're kissing, out here, somewhere near the forest of the public park, a little away from the hubbub of the night market, with the snow fickle in its way of softly trickling down then escalating to pelting them as the wind would pick up; and they're here, in each other's arms, kissing and pulling each other close. Kathalina shivers and gasps, trying to instinctually get closer against Vergil's tall figure, huddling against him as the snow and wind get stronger. His arms wrap around her, tighter, warmer, enveloping her as much as he can from the cold. He cups her face and directs her gaze up to him, his pupils blown looking at her.

He again leans and this time to go for her neck. He pries down a bit of the collar of her sweater and proceeds; the tingles across her body have her moaning, obliging to his attention. She realizes again how Vergil is holding himself back; the juxtaposing way he controls himself and his lust to enact upon it. Kathalina was sure he had contemplated on giving her a hickey, feeling his teeth on her skin, his saliva painting across…but instead a lovely, little suckle and peck was the result. She realized the power she had pulled over him: he wanted to pleasure her, but not hurt her…at least, not yet. She can still feel a bit of his teeth grazing across her skin and whimpers from their solid sensation, making her pant and cling onto him.

He hums against her skin in delight, sending a rumbling stimulation. He laps his tongue and suckles her tender flesh, taking a long whiff of her natural scent and light fragrance from her hair and skin. He gradually travels across her jawline, then her cool cheek, earning him a giggle. He chuckles in return before their lips meet once again. But they separate quickly, with Kathalina communicating her desires for him by pulling him somewhere. She tells him, "I-I want us…maybe, by that tree. I know there's no one around…please, let's do it quick…if it's okay…"

She keeps surprising him! Without another word, he pulls her into the forest. He makes sure they aren't too far away, but shadowed enough by the many dark trees to conceal their little activity. He takes the bag of street food and the vintage wine, and with a wave of his hand a soft magical light replaces the items, and disappears along with them. She blinks and glances up to him in surprise.

He smirks, "Well how else am I to hold you?"

Grinning sheepishly, Kathalina tucks her hair and answers, "Well, I didn't know you can! I was just prepared to hold anything while holding you!"

A good-natured laugh falls from his lips. "Well now you know you won't have any difficulty having fun."

She feels her breath taken away and she feels her body heat climbing, she might not need her winter clothes.

He comes closer, enveloping her in his arms and pushing her to a certain direction. His hands snake around her shoulders and waist, while hers slithers upwards onto his shoulders. She feels them stop and softly bump against a solid mass behind her, though his arms around her prevent her from fully resting her back against it. He entraps her between what she now realizes is a thick oak tree and his own solid physique, radiating what she now realizes is unusual warmth trapped inside his coat.

Cupping his face in her hands, Kathalina gasps at the warmth of his skin, unbothered by the frigid, snowy night. The foggy breath he emits is much more prominent than before or at least she thinks so, what with Vergil's breath feeling warm across her face. When he exhales his next breath, he leans his face closer and makes her feel the pleasant juxtaposing temperature against her skin, planting a kiss on her forehead as he tightens his arms around her. She reaches up further and tangles her fingers across his snowy-white hair; she feels his warm scalp, too, combing through his slick tresses and hears him groan as he languidly pulls away. With his eyes closed, Vergil quietly delights in her touch.

There's a low hum deep in his throat, but an even distinct sound rumbles beneath his physique. "I…don't know any more words to say." He whispers to her, his voice high in tone, vulnerable, yet dripping in this longing she, too, has. He continues, "I just want you and I want nothing but to give you so much, if you would like to…"

Kathalina pulls herself up higher, grinding her chest against his, surprising him and triggering his desires further; she whispers, "Then give it to me, please, I don't know what else to say, either, I just want you, too, oh please, oh please…"

She plants a searing kiss on his lips and there, he understands that he needn't worry about any walls between them anymore, or at least not now when they're drenched in long-repressed desires. They're here and they want to be with one another. And a gritty growl emits deep in him as she suckles on his lips, understandably ravenous and something he equals against her plush lips.

Vergil tightens his arms around her and slips one hand underneath her buttocks to further support her. She squeaks against his lips as she feels his large hands rake across her skirt, across her fleshy behind, feeling his groin grinding against her torso. She automatically lifts one leg and folds it behind his hip, hiking up her thick skirt to reveal a modest slit for more movement. She grasps across his shoulders again to support herself besides her one leg planted firmly on the ground. Without pulling away, his hand travels across the expanse of her soft roundness.

Vergil had always found himself glancing her way whenever Kathalina would stroll out of her desk, when he should be looking for a particular book on a shelf, instead of admiring her hips swaying. And now, with his palm undeservingly gifted with such a treat, his fingers tremble at the feeling of her skin as he traces beyond the slit of her thick skirt.

His lips tremble against hers and Kathalina couldn't help but giggle. He moans in response as she feels one of his hands touch a sliver of her bare skin. She wore thick thigh-high winter socks and insulated underwear that ends higher around her thighs. And it seems he has no idea how he would want to proceed. As much as she delights in his dilemma, Kathalina soon aids his hand to go underneath her skirt.

His breathing becomes shallow as he is finally allowed to revel in one of his fantasies; and as they continue to kiss while his hand roams across the warm, round shape of her buttocks and hips, he feels relief that this may be her fantasy as well. And he would like to gratify her and more.

Kathalina cannot control the way her voice is too high-pitched and jubilant against his warm lips, or from his eager yet gentle touch, and certainly from the way they grind at one another. Her leg around his hip tightens as her one standing leg slightly sways; she grasps onto him, balancing and giving her all to him and receiving so much in return. The way he kisses her deeper than he did back in the office, with his tongue even more adventurous than she could keep up, lapping up every essence of her and delving deep in her mouth. He groans in tandem to hers and she feels the vibration of the sound from his throat, titillating her deep and all at once.

They pull back a moment but he gives her a light peck on her mouth and around, taking a deep breath and smelling her, revelling in this raw scent of desire she emits. She gives him a little peck, too, but Kathalina shivers and buries her face between his neck and chest, huddling close.

Vergil knew the temperature here is below fifteen Celsius, perhaps less than that. He wants to continue, but Kathalina is not like him. He withdraws his hand from beneath her skirt and grasps her on her hip to steady her, already made up his mind on a plan.

But she shakes her head and tries to pull him back. If anything could melt away the abyss for a moment, it was the way Kathalina looks at him, begging and powerfully pulling him in further. "I'm not cold," she says, her breath fogging and some of her dark tresses gently swaying. "I'm…"

She didn't need to finish. The way her pink lips and skin fits her pretty face so well has him tightening his hold on her again, that he pulls out his tongue and laps at her lips. He can just taste the raw sweetness of her desire and any logical thing he wants to tell her is gone.

"I'm sorry, Vergil…" she murmurs, her breath uneven. "Please…"

"I wasn't going to stop." He whispers back, earning him a wide-eyed look from her, still begging. Assuaging her, he says, "I have a plan to keep you warm."

She sighs a breath of relief; she knows that she's being foolish but she cannot contain herself anymore. She needs release; her mind has fogged and anything she is doing is to tempt Vergil back to giving her pleasure. She understands she'll regret this all in the future, but those all feel far away. Persistent, she guides his hand again underneath her skirt and reaffirms her leg around his hip. He obliges for now; she can see it in the way his pupils are blown.

He growls at her, even showing teeth, making her gasp, before he settles back to being tender and starving. His mouth goes for her chin and gradually travels to her mouth again, receiving him openly and wantonly. Deep down, he feels thankful she hungers for him just the same and she shows them so strongly, that it intoxicates him. Her body language is everything opposite from what she was, yet undeniably a reflection of her deep, heartfelt lust and he will gratify them.

He grinds his pelvis against hers, lowering himself to her level so she can feel his. His fingers around her buttocks delve deeper, even with her undergarments on, his digits dig between her pliant skin and discovering the warmest, most feminine part of her. Kathalina rips away from the kiss to cry out suddenly. He hushes her, anxious that someone would hear. Vergil feels a little annoyed at himself that he had not thought of this; with a subtle change in the wind, he had formed a Cloaked area around the two of them to make them invisible from human eyes. Kathalina apologizes but he shakes his head.

"I'm really sorry…"

"Oh, sunflower, you are trouble…"

She can't help but simper and giggle back. "And yet, you want that."

He bites his lip and hums, fingers her again and elicits a pretty little cry from her, making her cling onto him as she laughs. "Oh! Ahh! Vergil…oh god…"

He lets the dark lust inside him travel down under her skirt, his hand practically making love to her womanhood. Kathalina's mouth pants and giggles, but she would close her eyes and savour the pleasure his fingers are kneading out, back and forth. Even with the underwear still in the way, certain moisture develops between her thighs.

He murmurs near her ear, "You said you'll take it? You'll take everything I offer?"

She nods, whimpering, trying to open her eyes, her lips trembling. "Yes…yes, hmm…"

Distracted by her heightening rapture, he barely registers one of her hands travelling down and onto the thickening center of his pants. Her fingers cup his manhood, long erect before they went here in the forest, and he in turn gasps in surprise. She laughs at his expression, making him pink and smirk. Recovering quickly, he darkly chuckles at her playfulness and resumes to kneading her womanhood, while he lets her relish on his manhood.

From the way she pants and shifts against his hand to optimize her pleasure, he feels that they're ready, if not long overdue, and whispers that she hopes she won't become afraid.

"I have a plan to keep you warm." He repeats. He glances up and around them, noting the way the snow falls and the gravity of the cold wind. His face becomes the usual sternness.

She halts pleasuring him, as he does so with her, bemused at him as he lifts his hands for her to see. And before her, Vergil's skin transforms. Kathalina notes its reptilian-like quality, or perhaps even insectoid-like. She remembers catching glimpses of his and his twin's transformed bodies: enigmatic, powerful and definitely inhuman. They both know she'll become afraid, so he goes for that in-between state; a cosmetic change at surface value, but still utilitarian enough.

"Since I've come to an understanding you've a kink for public sex," Vergil expounds casually, to her suddenly chortling at joking at their little sexual activity. "I need to find a way to warm us up while being out here. I admit, this is my first outdoor sex."

She covers her mouth, trying to conceal her laughter. "Well, lucky you, but this is my very first sex."

His smirk widens into a wicked grin. She swallows, slightly regretting revealing that part. He seems to take her situation as a fun challenge. "First time…"

He licks his lips and she swears, a part of his face transforms; well, as if his blue eyes giving a subtle glow aren't a giveaway.

She chastises him. "Don't rub it in."

He reassures her. "No. I think it's seductive."

A thought occurred to her. "Be honest: is someone being a virgin more significant to you? What I mean is, is someone's virginity…significant to someone like you?" She watches his expression, but her own anxiety already floods her mind. She feels genuinely brainless for asking something she feels too intimate or personal. She berates herself that it shouldn't matter.

"No." He calmly answers whilst he unbuttons his coat and pulls it off. "If you want to know, certain demons are as fickle, if not more, when it comes to their preferences, but most also settle for any opportunity. So no, it actually doesn't matter. But personally…"

After pulling off the coat, he spreads it out before finally laying it on Kathalina's shoulders, to her confusion; but she realizes the added warmth from the coat and finds she adores the distinct perfume that wafts around her faintly. He continues to answer, patient and cool. "…the fact you chose me to be yours like this is already enough for me. You being a virgin or experienced would each have their merits, but overall…"

He lets his words trail off and takes her by surprise when he pulls over the navy sweater from his body!

Kathalina gasps and settles into uneven breathing as she's left to indulge in him showing his skin to her! She knew how athletic he is and long imagined him without any clothes (to her frenzied chagrin, as these nights left her ruminating in sexual frustration), but never once did she see him without any, of course.

She clings to his coat draping her figure, drinking in the details of his muscles as he folds his sweater before he makes it disappear into the light, momentarily illuminating the good quality of his skin. He stands before her confidently, rippling in muscles, his torso long and pebbled with abdominal strength, pale in skin yet oddly flushed a bit pink, if not warmer. The snow that delicately falls around them seems to slowly melt on contact with his skin. Kathalina lifts one hand to touch him, but before her hand can even feel his skin, the radiating warmth is undeniably felt even if her palm is inches away. When she touches him, she can only compare it to how her skin finally becomes warm after hours of being near a roaring fireplace or campfire.

"Incredible…" She says to herself. But soon becomes aware she was gawking at his body and pulls back.

He smiles tenderly and pulls her closer again, finishing his answer. "…all that matters is how much you want to fuck me. And while you climax, I'll fuck you the way you desire it."

The moan that escapes Kathalina is followed with them sealing their lips together again. Deeply, their kisses smack and delve deep, their hands fondling one another. He isn't subtle in the way his hands roamed across her chest and down to her skirt, nor was she raking his skin lightly and even biting his lip. He growls in pleasure, grinding his pelvis against hers as he brings her one leg around to drape his hip again and thrust himself against her groin. Kathalina's high-pitched sobs and moans tore from her lips, but muffled by his hungry mouth. She delights in the hard plains of his body and the warm length of his manhood grinding against hers. The deep moisture that fills her inside complements this ache she is experiencing all over, her body needing something to fulfil them now.

As he distracts her with more foreplay, he gradually transforms his body yet again. She has come to accept his new hands (although it is still leagues away from his full form) and slowly lets more of his dark blue skin show up as his wings emerge from his back. They stretch out behind him: expansive, thick, made of an indescribable, pliant texture and definitely warm enough for her. He softly lets it envelop around her as he subtly adjusts her in his arms; his wings come behind her to finally shield her from the cold and bring a bit of heat.

Before she pulls back, she makes a confused little noise and finally turns around her to see how Vergil had presented another part of his transformation. Relief washes over him as she seems more curious than afraid.

But soon she shakes her head and he was expecting she was uncomfortable with him like this, and he would understand. But she asks, "Wait, what about you?" Then she runs her hands across his back, which is still mostly his human skin, but in his lower back where his wings sprouted, are the unfamiliar, animal-like surface of his demon biology. And he finds it more curious that her hands explore that part of him and glances at him with concern. "Aren't you cold? Vergil!"

And he laughs warmly, cupping her face and kissing her nose. He feels relief washing over him. "No! No, I'm alright, my sunflower, but what about you? Do you find this uncomfortable? This is one way I can think of to keep you warm in a…kinky outdoor sex."

With that, she covers her face in embarrassment and chuckles. "I…no, actually. But I'm not kinky!"

He smirks at her and she flushes pinker, if possible, as he whispers, "Kathalina, this was your idea and I fucking love it. I'll do you anywhere no one can see so long as you're cumming."

She makes a little noise, desperate and wanting in its tone, as she clings to his body. His nose takes a whiff of a scent on her…

"I—I didn't think I'd like you to talk dirty." She confesses.

Something snapped and had undone him even further! Tackling her and supporting her body as he puts her to lie down, Kathalina yelps and holds onto him. She suddenly feels the exotic anatomy of his wings behind her, enveloping and supporting her off the snowy ground and giving her warmth. Her entire body rests and fits inside his wings, whilst Vergil hovers over her, his glowing eyes staring at her with his brows knitted, his face the image of desire.

She sighs and grins, the feeling of safety and comfort mixing so well, she might think she's dreaming. But his hands and his face roams all over her and plants his lips, lapping his tongue, it dawns on her how incredibly daring and real this is!

"I—I can't hold out…" She tells him and takes one of his hands and guides him between her thighs. "Feel me…"

Vergil can already smell her, even taste her, before his fingers caress the warm wetness already imprinted on her underwear. A long groan escapes his throat and she cries as his thumb deepens across her covered, warm slit, feeling her desires spilling against his fingers.

She gasps and comes a little. Wanting to do something, Kathalina reaches down, shivering, and her eyes locked onto his, and awkwardly pulls down the tight and thick underwear. His lips part as he helps her manoeuvre around in pulling off her underwear; since she cannot remove her winter footwear, she plans to pocket her garment in her coat, but Vergil has his fingers around it, insisting to have it. She relents and watches as her undergarment disappears in a flash of gentle light, now a part of Vergil's supernatural 'pocket'.

There was a devilish look in his face. He isn't smiling, but he looks quite possessed; Kathalina giggles and that snaps him to give her attention. "You wanna have my underwear?"

That made him look away for a moment, pink and embarrassed. He doesn't answer and instead, after swallowing, proceeds to place his fingers on her womanhood, which, from where Kathalina can see, is holding his intrigue and desire a lot more than she thought. She feels him gently pry and caress, even softly kneading the flesh around hers.

Her legs spread and bent up to her chest, Vergil is free to marvel at her femininity. He can feel and see that she had climaxed earlier and he thought how he was going to be when he finally feels her. But she playfully closes her legs and turns slightly to the side, denying him access. She grins, teasing, partially vulnerable and honest, but playing up her inexperience. "I'm sorry, I'm unshaven. I guess I'm quite the cavewoman. I hope that's okay…"

"That doesn't matter." Vergil answers, sounding impatient. He holds one of her knees and further pulls down the long skirt covering her, unintentionally tantalizing him for not showing him her hips and buttocks. He doesn't do anything else, but his breathing is getting more uneven. "You think that would stop me—"

"Well, I think I need to get more comfortable…"

He looks up and sees her fingers loosening the buttons and zippers of her coat. Kathalina stretches out her legs in front of him, taunting him by brushing her legs across his face and allowing him to visually see her vulva; all the while she finally unbuttons her coat to reveal her sweater. Not wanting to interfere with the magic of her giving him a show and taking the lead (for now), Vergil observes her warm disposition as she places one hand on her vulva and takes one of his hands and, lifting her sweater a bit, places his large hand to cup her breast.

She moans and delights in leading him, grinding her pelvis against her hand as she pleasures herself in front of him. Her hand that placed his on her breast went to reach and massage his left bicep and shoulder, laughing softly and biting her lip.

"Am I to believe you're really a virgin?" Vergil asks and leans his face to kiss her forehead. He brushes away strands of her hair that danced across her cheek.

She smiles, showing her teeth. "I know what I want…for quite a long time now…"

"That lonely, huh?" Vergil teases back, earning a chuckle and a light punch on his shoulder from her.

His lips beam, watching her play herself, dewy and pink, her fingers encircling her clitoris; her torso arching against his hand palming each of her breasts. Kathalina looks so comfortable; he thought he should change that a bit.

He pulls her sweater up, not off her, knowing what his wings and clothes she has abates the winter's cold; but it's enough to reveal her dark bra, cupping her breasts, and her torso, silky and soft to the touch. She cries and halts touching herself, anticipating what he would do. He dips his head against her cleavage and kisses and laps at the suppleness of them. She loudly moans, quite long, and hastily embraces the back of his head to keep him there and continue. Her legs entwine awkwardly around his back, the soles of her footwear accidentally kicking the root of his wings. Kathalina panics and yelps and sobs, whispering apologies and cradling his head whilst Vergil buries his face enthusiastically between her breasts.

He eventually stops, lifts his head and kisses her quickly, before delving down again to gently plant one last bite on one of her breasts, then proceeds to do the same across her abdomen. His fingers knead her waist and up to her breasts, his mouth searing against her soft skin. Kathalina shifts and shivers across his coat and wings, giggling and sobbing at the way he mixes a bit of pain to shock her with his bites and nibbling a part of her waist to tickle her. Her hands rumple and comb across his scalp, unconsciously raking or pulling his hair as she pants and lets him ravenously savour her, because every bit of his attention pushes her beyond pleasure.

His nose grazes across the thick texture of her long skirt, rumpled and revealing her pelvis and legs…and her womanhood he's going for. But first, his lips reach for the junction between her hip and right thigh, pushing away her skirt that curtains his lips from her skin, lapping and kissing the pliant, soft flesh, earning him a long uneven breath from her. She pulls her legs up, relenting to her desires to have his attention; he hooks her legs between his arms, placing them firmly between his shoulders, before dipping his head to place his tongue across her groin.

The drawn out keen that tore from Kathalina's mouth feels like an aftermath compared to how her body shudders against Vergil's mouth. Her thighs press together against his head, but becoming conscious about how she moves for a second, she relaxes them, only to find herself gaining more tension again as his tongue licks around the lips and skin of her groin, travelling a bit upward near where her pubic hair is thicker, and pressing his open mouth to suckle loudly on her clitoral area. Her hands frantically find purchase everywhere, even stilling across her chest as she sobs, licking her lips as if vicariously imitating how Vergil could be making love to her with his mouth, until she relents to holding onto his hair again. She hears him chuckle, its vibration eliciting a short sensation; she feels his prominent nose graze against her mons pubis even further, pressing his mouth and tongue to continue in thrilling her.

And he couldn't get enough of her! His senses have always been sharp, but this? With his mouth planted on her womanhood and lapping up the taste of her, his nose and his eyes solely on her bare skin, his arms and hands clenching her thighs so she wouldn't twist too much, he's considering about having sex with her before a rigorous mission would start! The clarity he probably would gain, whilst her body revels post-coital…

There was a time he had mused about the possibilities of finally dating and even sex, but it was always just patiently at the back of his mind; but three nights ago, when they became vulnerable inside the library booth, Vergil understood he wanted to commit, not to her per se (though it isn't a bad idea to be with her), but to his desires and his longing, and finally release himself from knowing he'll regret them if he never tried. His attachment and feelings for her definitely grew stronger during her abduction, and even after her saving their lives, he had almost failed her and himself; and it's funny to think and finally move on from what could've been if he never once tried to ask her for a date, while his face is buried between her thighs as his mouth engulfs her over and over again.

He moans his delight as he flicks his tongue across her slit, up towards the sheath of her clitoral area, repositioning his mouth on it and creating suction and rapid movement with his lips. The way her fingers comb across his hair motivates him, amusing him even, until he takes her fingers away from his hair and entwines his hands with hers, placing them to relax on her lower stomach as she keens and moans. She arcs her pelvis to meet his lips, grinding in a rhythm he would set up, until his mouth would rapidly suckle again, loudly drinking from her womanhood.

Kathalina holds onto his hands as tears run down her cheeks, the hot bliss mounting high and, admittedly, too much for her as her first time. But she didn't want this to stop! She wanted to coax him as well with words of praise or compliments, make him feel appreciated as she nears climax. But they become drawn out sobs and gasps of pleasure, panting and crying, loving the weight of his face and his warm mouth planted so firmly against her female area; adoring the way her thighs grazes his ears, or hair, his neck and especially his strong shoulders, flexing as his arms grasp them open, not forcefully, but to simply hold them in place. He would occasionally stop stimulating her pink folds to plant open-mouth kisses on her inner thighs, growling deep in his abdomen, savouring each action before delving back to sexually assuage her again.

Her body shivers and her legs tremble, her voice shaky as he pushes her to the peak. Kathalina closes her eyes, her mouth wide open, whimpering, as she takes in lungfuls of air, her body arching and legs suddenly straightening, her entire body readying in tension. Deep in her, she can feel her core coiling impatiently as Vergil remains on that rapid movement with his mouth, staying put on her clitoral area. He can feel her wetness, tasting more and more of her as she shivers against his tongue. He had been watching her and making sure he won't overstimulate her, but he's glad she's taking everything he can do. He loves the way her stomach rolls and her chest heaves while their hands remain entwine, and the way her voice pitches high when he goes for her clit, then lower when he breaks away to stimulate more her folds or her groin or her thighs…

But now he wants to taste her release.

"Ah, ah, Vergil…don't stop…hmm, mmm…"

He makes a deep sound to confirm that he's not relenting until she cannot take him anymore. She shakes her head and her body arcs, praising Vergil inside her mind, wondering how his mouth, his chin and his tongue can make that rapid technique—

"OOH!"

Kathalina's eyes blinks open and wails in pleasure, her pelvis grinding up against Vergil, who remains on doing his cunnilingus on her as he tastes her copious release! Her guttural cry accompanies her trembling body, her pleasure pulsating through her deeply! The muscles of her vagina quiver in creating this powerful release! She soon groans and her fingers tighten around his hands, her thighs locking his head as she is left in this electrifying and sweltering orgasm; everything in her core finally leaving to drench her womanhood and his face. It lasts seconds, her twitching uncontrollable and her voice shaking as she gradually comes down from the peak. "Ooh…" She sighs in both relief and trying to comprehend how her body is still climaxing. Her inner thighs quake but they subside, though her little gasping and uneven breathing hints in the slow subsiding of her powerful orgasm.

He continues to guzzle and lap his tongue at her pink core, to which she finally reacts with a plaintive cry and even pulls her hips from him, even softly kicking his head away. Before complying, Vergil laughs and plants his mouth one more time to lick his tongue all across her slit, earning another complaining tone from her. He chuckles and pulls away, looking at her with this dark, lustful face, his mouth and chin drenched in both his saliva and her desires. He breathes in the cold air, creating a fog of breath as he lets go of her hands and releases her legs, his fingers fumbling towards his pants' button and fly, his glowing blue eyes locked on her.

Beads of sweat trickle down her head, still coming down from the hot peak she had experienced. She begins to become self-conscious and Kathalina shivers in both desire and anxiety, realizing how her sweater and long skirt is rumpled and pulled away to reveal so much of her. She hugs her chest and folds her knees together, knowing it's too late to actually cover herself and becomes pinker as she replays how Vergil had ravished her skin. She licks her lips at the way he made foreplay and swallows as she recalls his appreciation of her body. She does become self-conscious at the way she acted brazenly and even from the fact she is unshaven, completely forgetting because her desires led her instead of her usual logic.

"Kat…" He calls her, still deep in this desire for her. She sees him free his hips and pulls down his pants and undergarments, his love for her springing out from his clothes.

Something in her snaps and desire leads her again, melting away her insecurities. Kathalina curses them at the back of her mind and eagerly sits up, snapping him to kneel still and watches her make her move. She reaches one hand towards his erection…but she doesn't.

Vergil understood Kathalina's reluctance and thought of a way to encourage her, but she leans her face and licks a part of his shaft! A shocked, choking sound comes from his mouth and his body shivers, down to the very expanse of his wide, warm wings. Kathalina felt it, looking around and underneath her as his supernatural wings quivered for a second.

She stretches one hand beside her right to soothe its complex skin, "Shh, sorry…" and places a gentle kiss on Vergil's nose. "Sorry…"

He shakes his head, a darker look in his blown pupils. "Actually, I'd ask you to do that again."

Her pealing laughter is music to his ears. She licks her lips and finally encloses both her hands on his manhood, erect and pointing up to her, definitely longing for her attention. Her curiosity doesn't take away the arousing sensations her fingers give him, his panting a bit uneven as she experiments and explores his shaft, and up to his pulled foreskin to reveal his pink glans. She leans down again, but this time Vergil stops her. He puts one hand on her shoulder and whispers. "No, no. Maybe next time."

She gives him a perplexed look, endearing him but realizing she was actually contemplating giving him oral. "Really? I know I'm not experienced but I'm so eager."

He smiles softly, loving how she wants to equal the way he gave oral to her, and plants a kiss on her lips. She squeaks in surprise, tasting her own cum in her tongue, before he pulls away. She didn't know she would be that intoxicated tasting her own desire; she leans her face down again towards his sex, but he laughs, declining her. "No, no, my sunflower. Please….I want it, too, but…next time. I want the main event."

She giggles as he even butts his forehead to her, relenting to his wish. He puts his hands on her shoulders to lay her on his wings again. She feels its flesh shift around them, all the while Vergil props his arms besides her to position himself on top of her. As he does so, she pries her legs open again and accommodates space for his hips to rest. She reaches behind her and unhooks her bra, reaching on their cups to reveal herself for Vergil. His eyes widen, his breathing becoming shallow as his gaze caresses her bare soft breast and nipples, but he says nothing, focusing on finding how comfortable he'll be and making sure his wings protect her from the cold. He reaches for his pant pocket and procures his wallet, finding a wrapped condom. His brows knot, however, when her fingers grab the condom.

"Um…"

"No." He firmly tells her. "Non-negotiable."

"Vergil…I've taken precautions." She tells him, trying to persuade him. "I've had tests. I have a practitioner I trust. I already take control pills."

"Kathalina, look…" His voice is calm, but the sternness in his face is making her rethink. "My biology…it may not even matter if you have precautions. I…can't put you at risk."

She hangs her head in defeat. She knew it was foolish, she knew her lust and fantasies can potentially risk her.

"Alright." He relents, surprising her.

"What?"

"What was it my brother says…oh yeah," He manages to put on a smirk. "'My pull-out game is pretty strong'."

Quite confused and guilty, Kathalina presses on about the condom, but his voice remains stern when he says, "I will use it. But only for this time, I'm indulging you."

She laughs dryly. "You don't need to guilt-trip me."

"No, Kat, I'm just as guilty," He assures her, his eyes heavily-lidded as he places the condom near them. "To be frank, I'd rather have physical intimacy. But even with all our testing, human technology won't detect what else I could be. This serves as a warning."

Kathalina ruminates his words and feels self-conscious, realizing her lack of conscientiousness. She makes a small hum, taking in the earnest heed. "I see. I'm…I take full responsibility."

He stares at her, quite concerned. He seems to be pulling away and looks at the condom, but she stills him, placing her hands on his shoulders.

"I want to see through whatever bad and good I make this time." She tells him, watching his eyes relax and drink in her lips moving, listening. "If I say I love you, all I want for you to see is how much I mean them. Every word I only say to people that have…marked their souls to my mind, I hold dear and genuine. I don't know what will happen to us either, but…I do take this seriously, this passionate time with you, as silly as I am to you."

"You're not silly, my sunflower, not innately." He tells her solemnly, placing both his hands on her cheek. "And don't think I won't let things get out of hand if something happens to you. Don't think I won't suddenly care."

She couldn't stop her tears pricking her eyes. He comforts her, assuring her how he will be there for her, and she equally tells him the same. "I love you, you handsome blue rose."

He grins at the pet name she's given him. "You know, the colour blue is culturally an enigmatic colour. Blue flowers, particularly roses, which don't exist, are especially thought to have magic."

She makes a noncommittal sound at him, prompting him to ask her in mock sternness, "Did you hear what I said?"

"Yes, professor Sparda, I did." Kathalina replies as she rolls her eyes.

He keeps teasing her, playing up his voice to sound staid and authoritative. "I swear, Ms. Lombardo, if you ever don't pay attention to me again, I'll have to punish you."

She giggles and murmurs, as she reaches between them and caresses his erect penis, with him trying to hide his surprise. "I think I now suspect you've a teacher-student kink."

He smirks, placing her legs on his shoulders again and he positions himself between her. "Is that so bad?"

She feels his hot tip and shaft gliding across her pink slit, still wet and aching from the stimulation. She moans and even caresses his strong, pebbled abdomen, stretching comfortably. "Not as good as your librarian kink."

That did it. Vergil entered her without any more preamble. She arcs her body, crying and finding purchase by pushing her hands against his wings underneath. He, too, could not take it.

He had experience before, but mostly a condom had been in place. The first time had been the only time he was bare and had pulled out in time, and that had been a long time ago, in high school.

He cannot silence the deep grunt that keeps escaping him as his length enters so smoothly. She shivers and her moans become pulsating rhythms, her core adjusting to his size. Vergil lets out a long sigh, concentrating and keeping himself steady. He feels her pliant muscles coax and knead across his length, feel her pulse and her body quivering, gradually calming as her legs tenses less across his arms and shoulders. He knows she feels beautiful, but this threatens to open a dark part of him he has no mood for!

She bites her lips, closes her eyes tightly. He feels…strange, slightly stinging and much warmer than she thought, though she can guess it's the same sweltering temperature of his supernatural skin, warm enough to abate the cold. Ever since she had climaxed, Kathalina can feel her body complain at how it needed more. But as she feels its length and weight penetrating through, now it feels too fulfilling…

"Aahh…Kathalina…are you…"

She swallows hard, nodding at him, her eyes blinking open. She notes at his brows knitting and sweat beading around his temples. She takes uneven breaths, her hand unsteady in grasping both for his neck or his cheeks. "Mm-hmm. I'm alright…"

He feels unconvinced, gazing at the way her eyes flutter like butterfly wings, her lashes framing her tearful eyes. He whispers praises to her, hoping to keep her flaming passion alive and distract her for any possible pain. He cannot adore enough of her velvet, creamy, warmsheath, enveloping him, tightening, while he lays so close against her soft, lush skin. He kisses her cheeks, fondles her breasts and waist, caressing her head, all the while he patiently observes any change in her demeanor.

The way she feels him between her, in her, is making her feel and think too many at once. Yet desire and wanting him to move and tighten her legs around him is more powerful. She leans up her head to kiss him, arching her hips to grind, trying to meet her flesh against his. She realizes he hadn't entered her to his hilt! Delighting in wanting to sheath his length further, she keeps grinding herself up to his hips, until he finally cannot bear the clasping heat of her core making love to him! The voice Vergil releases against her lips is desperate, his body quivering suddenly, much more than she had.

His hands grasp her hips, aggressively pulling away his mouth from her and surges his hips forward, earning him a lovely scream and has her grasping around his neck, pulling him in, her grey-green eyes staring at his pale blue ones. Their breaths mingle, with hers at a quickened pace, whilst he restrains his own. He makes strong, but slow, aggressive thrusts to her and Kathalina takes each stroke with a vocal gasp, each becoming less strained, her body receiving him with equal lust.

She stares at his eyes, his nose, his mouth…his white hair, once brushed back, had become a mess and frames his face, shadowing his features, but not this look of starving desire for her and their sex. Kathalina wants to smile and praise him, but her mouth keeps opening to let in and out air, her tongue licking occasionally to soothe her dry lips. She enjoys his very texture and heat of each pounding force he gifts between her thighs, loving the sound of their skin slapping and their moist fucking.

She only has a second to fathom that she's no longer a virgin as she focuses instead on the way his hard length keeps brushing at a particular spot near her entrance! But from the way he plunges himself and pounding his hips against her buttocks, she thinks it's sexually entertaining to see his powerful body rippling with such strength just to please her. And from the slick sounds of her vagina relishing him further, Kathalina is more than pleased.

The deep purr rumbling through his throat has her vibrantly giggling and he enjoys how she is comfortable. He gyrates his hips in a strong but slow rhythm, savouring the way she grinds back towards his hips, sometimes out of pace. He whispers how he loves the way she feels, how supple her core is as she keeps coaxing him to his last strength. She moans appreciatively to his compliments, tightening her legs more, her dewy folds accommodating his length with each penetration. He can feel her vaginal muscles engulfing his penis, like pliant, tender velvet, her creamy lubrication priming their lovemaking.

He picks up the pace slightly, the muscles of his buttocks tensing and his hamstrings hardening, keeping the strong, smooth strokes as he goes faster. She breathes deeply, taking more energy to keep apace, wanting to respond with her hips up to him, but each pound from his hard pelvis sets her still underneath him. So she surrenders to him pleasuring her, moaning and licking her lips as she lets him thrust away. She watches Vergil's dark face, his muscular body hovering over her as his arms pillar her legs over his shoulders, his body shaking and surging as he drives his hips to hers so fiercely, over and over and over…

"Hmm…" More aroused, Kathalina's pink and beautiful face smiles at him, placing her hands on her breasts and playing with them. She intends to rouse him further as she encircles her fingers around her breasts' fleshiness, clasping them together to protrude her dark pink nipples towards his lips, hoping he can reach to suckle them. He gives in, grunting, and licks his tongue around the areola of one nipple, earning him a satisfied cry from her lips. He goes for the other, hungrily putting as much of her breast inside his mouth. Tasting her, his pace quickens more, if not more aggressively.

She cries louder again, her head shaking from side to side, eyes closed. The very weight and heft of his erect penis, in addition to his penetrative shape and length, feels too ideal, too magnificent! She can feel the smoothness of the stroke each time, brushing against her aroused core to further push her again to that hot peak! The floor of her vagina feels like it's pulled lower by his heavy shaft, like she's truly being…fucked.

And his voice! Deep, slick, like the most precious silk…but he grunts and groans, guttural, fragile, as if he's about to cry himself.

She can't get enough of him; she giggles in lust, as her entire body flounces in sync with his vigorous pace, his hard body pounding away, her wet arousal drenching their sex and hips.

And he's close! Oh, how he enjoys watching her body sing and surrender, enjoying him, flushed pink, egging him on further to their peak. However, he contemplates about the condom…

His eyes flit to the wrapper, and then to her moaning lips, her marvellous grey-green eyes looking at him or at the way their body meets time and time again. If he was being honest, he'd rather flood his lust into her and feel her drench his cock this time. And if she feels this good, he knows he'd lose himself in the climax inside her.

But that would be foolish.

Without a word, he pulls all the way out from her and goes for the condom. Kathalina, shocked, screams and sobs, folds her legs together, her eyes tightly shut. She convulses, the tremors racking her body as she keeps her near-climax from bursting, barely leashing it deep in her. He hastily tears open the wrapper and rolls it on to his member properly, breathing deep to control himself and not throw away the condom, and give in to his urges.

Finally, Vergil grasps her legs again, pries them open and enters, and the two lovers sigh loudly in relief. He repositions himself and hooks her legs on his shoulders and resumes thrusting, reigniting her glistening core to her brink.

She gasps and cries, pulling him in and kissing him, lapping her tongue against his. She appreciates everything he's doing, rolling her hips up at him, in spite of not being in sync, as he pounds his pelvis to pleasure her to oblivion.

They moan together, locking their eyes, knowing their peak is near, with hers nearer…

"Oh, Vergil, Vergil, Vergil…keep…going, don't stop, don't stop, don't stop, don't stop…"

Kathalina's voice becomes higher in pitch, her eyes becoming half-open as she quivers under him…and she cums! Her climax is deeper, more muscles coiling and has her hips surging upwards, trembling to meet his pelvis and tighten him to the spot, but Vergil grasps her legs and continues to pound into her, thrusting himself over and over to aid in her cumming; his face grimacing in focus as her body twists in orgasmic blissfulness! She is half conscious how her creamy arousal makes a small splash, further coaxed out of her climaxing womanhood by his erection every time he pulls back for each stroke.

She gradually comes down from the peak, though the aftermath and him still stimulating her with each stroke still manages to bring out small bouts of orgasm, making her tremble and murmur incomprehensibly. He settles himself deeper over her, lowering his shoulders and bringing his legs wider behind a little, to balance himself as his pace becomes stronger, if not even more zealously! Her body flounces against his lovemaking, moaning and whispering how much she loves it, caressing his neck and chest, wanting him to finally release. Her creamy arousal leaks out of her core and lubricates his already smooth ravaging, coating his penis and up his pubic hair; his pelvis hitting her glistening folds, stimulating the last of her sexual appetite, though she meekly encourages him as she's beginning to feel overstimulated.

"Oh, fuck…Vergil…hmm…"

The trembling groan that escapes his lips is simultaneous to the way his erection quivers. He reaches his arms to embrace her, further bending her body with her legs over his shoulders, her pelvis meeting his, and her hips and up to her face under him, his legs kneeling. He keeps his pace as much as he can until he can no longer leash himself and surges forward for the last time, trembling, pressing his groin to hers as Vergil cums!

A long drawn out cry tore from his lips as Kathalina joins him with a satisfied hum. His hips press and gyrate against hers as he cums, his entire body shivering in lustful finish, struggling to steady his position. He empties his arousal deep in her, his tight balls quivering between his thighs to ejaculate to the tip of the condom. He purrs and exhales his exhaustion out, feeling the last drop of his climax leaving his glans, and sighs, content in feeling the buzzing of post-ejaculation.

He hangs his head beside her face, his heart rate slowing down and breathing almost normally. Her hands roam across his back, feeling the hard mounds of muscle and even the strange root of his strong wings that help them warm. She embraces him, much tightly, and perhaps more protectively, than before, nuzzling her nose at the crook of his neck and taking a whiff of his scent on his white hair.

He gradually lifts his head and glances at her, before he slowly sits up again and pulls away. Her hands caress his skin before she lets him go and, tiredly, unhook her legs from his arms and shoulders. She feels the copious warm wetness leave her vaginal area as his penis finally exits. She can feel an ache and emptiness in her physicality and from the way Vergil's shoulders and chest heaves a long breath whilst he pulls the condom off, he could be feeling the same way. Weary, yet determined to sit up, Kathalina gets her back off his wings and tries to fix her outfit, self-consciousness creeping in.

Vanishing the used condom into the light, Vergil muses in throwing that one the minute he sees a trash can. He observes her hooking her bra, and with that, her stomach rolls and her long brown hair trailing down her shoulders, obscuring her pink face and her eyes looking elsewhere. She pulls down her sweater and quickly buttons herself up, but remembers having lain on top of his borrowed coat and takes it, smoothing it out and even checking for any tear.

He chuckles, gaining her attention. She flushes pink, in embarrassment. "Um…here."

He murmurs with a grin. "Thank you."

She watches him reappear his navy sweater, but doesn't put it on. Startled with realization, Kathalina hastens in fixing her skirt and thigh-high socks, before pushing herself up and trying to exit the 'tent' that is Vergil's large wings. A jovial laugh comes from Vergil, reaching out to pull her to him. She ends up planting her face on his left shoulder and his arms around her.

"If I say I love you," Vergil whispers to her. "Will that help in making you see how I see the good in you?"

She didn't know what to say, but tears pricked her eyes and made her bury her face at the crook of his neck. She stifles any more crying, her mood gradually elating. "I will love you and be better, so we can equal one another, in some way…"

He hums in agreement, combing his fingers across her long hair. He plants a kiss at her left temple before she pulls away. His wings stretch and retract to allow her to exit out. Now standing again in the middle of the park's forest, Kathalina glances back and watches, with adoration, how Vergil expands his dark blue wings, savouring the cold snowy breeze, his white hair dancing softly against the wind and his strong torso nonchalantly melting any drop of snow that came close to his skin.

He pulls on his navy sweater and buttons up his coat, smoothing his hair back to sweep away any stray fringe that covered his face. Smiling, quite triumphantly, he places an arm around her shoulders as Kathalina settles herself next to him.

Together, they leave the park, bantering at one another about the sexual activity they just had, and go to his penthouse to finally taste that pinot nero wine, and finish the street food leftovers. Since the night has grown, Vergil offers for her to stay the night, clean herself before bed and even have some of the extra clothes he keeps for emergencies. As they grow accustomed to one another's presence and feeling safer, warm and refreshed, they start kissing once again, with Kathalina being quite sure Vergil seduced her to his bed to make love again and more than once. Only at around four in the morning did the lovers finally let slumber take a hold of them.

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last chapter coming soon, -_-