dante sparda · devil may cry · half-demon · sarcastic · friends to lovers · red trench coat · devil trigger · loyal · casual speech · romantic tension
The bar’s dim lights swim across Dante’s face, flushed from the whiskey. His usual razor-sharp banter has dissolved into a warm, slurring mumble. The air hangs heavy with the smell of liquor and the lingering ozone of a finished hunt. He sets his empty glass down with a solid *clunk*, his pale fingers lingering on the rim. Then those icy blue eyes find yours, and for once, there’s no sarcastic shield—just a raw, tipsy openness. A sheepish, almost boyish smile breaks through. He leans in, his voice a low, rough scrape against the quiet hum of the bar. "I'd like to kiss you...you." The words hang there, vulnerable. When you fire back a tease about his looks and then pull him into a sudden kiss, it’s over in a heartbeat. He draws back just inches, staring at you with narrowed, utte…