It was a stupid thing to do. The kind of dumb move seen only in cheap movies and popular sitcoms. Something that should only ever have been used as a last resort, if at all. And yet here she was, heart racing, breath mingling with his, trapped between a smug half-demon and a filthy alley wall. It had all gone sideways so fast. One second they were being pursued, and the next, Vergil's lips were on hers.
The city noises outside the alley faded, replaced by the thunderous beat of her own pulse as the world narrowed to that single moment. The pressure of his body against hers was making it hard to think. Every fibre of her being screamed that this was wrong, and yet for some reason, she didn't want it to end.
Her muffled cry of shock had been swallowed by his mouth as he kissed her, surprise briefly paralysing her, before she gave in far too easily. And then, just as suddenly as it had begun, she found the strength to shove him away, pushing him back with far more force than was necessary.
"They're gone already, damn it!" Lady spat, her voice trembling with a mix of anger and humiliation. She rubbed at her mouth frantically with the back of her hand, trying to scrub away the feel of him, the taste of him, that lingered far too stubbornly.
Vergil straightened his coat with meticulous care, his gaze drifting to the end of the alley where their pursuers had scattered. He ran his tongue across his teeth, as if savouring some new flavour, then wiped his lips in a slow, deliberate gesture using his thumb. He appeared as composed as ever, but a faint, unmistakable smirk tugged at his lips.
"And was it good for you too?" he asked, his tone cool but laced with mockery. His question exuded an arrogance that made Lady's blood boil.
She stormed forward and grabbed the lapels of his jacket, glaring up at him. "I swear, if you tell anyone about this, I'll kill you my damn self."
Vergil merely raised an eyebrow, unfazed, which only served to aggravate her further.
"I can assure you," Vergil replied, his voice steady and calm, "the last thing I desire is to recount this... inconvenience." He regarded her with a mixture of disdain and amusement. "Rest easy, my dear. I am not Dante."
The mention of Dante drew a sharp breath from Lady, and she felt the sting of shame. He'd never let her live this down if he found out. Vergil's smile faded, but a glint of satisfaction remained in his eyes – he knew he'd rattled her.
Lady jabbed a finger into his chest. "Don't you ever try something like that again. That was stupid, and reckless, and–"
"And it worked," Vergil interrupted. There was an intensity in his gaze that made Lady pause. "You can scold me all you want, but the fact remains: our pursuers are gone, and we are not dead. I'd consider that a success."
Lady clenched her jaw, the rational part of her knowing that he was right, but hating it all the same. "You could've warned me," she snapped, crossing her arms in an attempt at shielding herself from the embarrassment that still burned inside her.
Vergil's expression softened, though not with remorse. It was more condescending, if anything. "Warnings take time we didn't have," he said simply. "You should be accustomed to adapting to unforeseen circumstances by now."
Lady opened her mouth to retort, but the words caught in her throat. As infuriating as his logic was, it was difficult to refute.
"Next time," she said sharply, "use your damn sword."
Vergil slowly looked her up and down, his eyes lingering for a moment on her lips. "That," he said, leaning slightly closer, "would have been far less entertaining." He turned on his heel and started to walk in the direction of their assailants, his coat billowing behind him.
Lady tutted in frustration and took a moment to adjust her weapons. She glared daggers at his back, bitter and impressed in equal measure as she noted how the fabric of his clothes so perfectly outlined his broad shoulders, and how his irritatingly perfect hair caught the moonlight in such a way that simultaneously made her want to run her fingers through it and rip it out all at once. She let out an annoyed growl and jogged after him.
Vergil paused at the entrance to the street, glancing over his shoulder with that same mocking smile from earlier. "Try to keep up," he called out. "I'd rather not have to save you again."
Lady scoffed, resisting the urge to fire a bullet at his stupid, handsome face. "You should be so lucky," she retorted, turning her nose up at him indignantly. He merely shook his head and carried on, the rhythmic sound of his boots fading into the hum of the city as they exited the shadows. Lady followed, determined not to let him out of her sight. Not because she needed him to protect her, but because she wouldn't give him the satisfaction of thinking he'd won by making her walk away.
No matter how much she tried to deny what had happened, however, Lady couldn't help but replay the moment in her mind. She could still feel the ghost of his touch on her skin – the way his grip had been firm but not unkind, his presence overwhelming yet oddly reassuring, and his kiss just a little too gentle for someone so cocky. As much as she loathed the idea of ever repeating it, there was a small part of her that wondered just how much of his behaviour had been purely for show.
She shook the thought away and quickened her pace, catching up to him with ease. When his eyes met hers, she stuck her tongue out at him and punched him in the arm, before running ahead.
She decided that next time she found herself stuck alone with Vergil, she'd make damn sure that she took the lead first. What that might entail, however, would remain to be seen.
