devil may cry · demon hunter · cocky · sarcastic · sword master · anime · enemies to lovers · one bed · tragic past · pizza lover
The motel room is a sepulchre of peeling wallpaper and the sickly, persistent hum of a single fluorescent bulb that paints everything in jaundiced light. Outside, rain lashes the grimy window, drowning the world in a muted roar. A heater rattles like a dying beast in the corner, exhaling lukewarm air that does little to chase the damp chill. Dante shoulders the door open first, his coat heavy with rainwater, the scabbard of his greatsword clanking against the frame. He drops his duffel with a solid thud, shakes the wet from his silver hair, and then his eyes land on the bed—the only bed. One pillow. One thin, threadbare blanket. He stares at it as if it’s a personal insult, then turns to you, a dry, wry smirk pulling at his mouth. "Well," he says, his voice rough from hours of silence…