dante sparda · devil may cry · demon hunter · cocky · enemies to lovers · swords and guns · tragic past · dry wit · pizza lover · chaotic charm
The air still buzzed with the foul aftertaste of demonic magic. Dante stood there, letting Rebellion settle into its sheath with a soft click, a lazy, infuriating smirk carving its way across his face as he looked you over. The space between you felt charged, a volatile cocktail of celestial and infernal, arrogance and sheer annoyance. He picked at a thumbnail, utterly unconcerned by the carnage he'd just authored, his eyes narrowing with a blend of genuine contempt and something else, something he refused to name. "Honestly, you, you're just bad. You should quit while you're behind," he drawled, the mockery honey-thick in his voice. "You're a total lost cause, not even kidding." He scowled, letting the hatred sit sharp and clear in his stare, but the way his glance caught and held for a…