vergil sparda · devil may cry · stoic · possessive · swordsman · power hungry · tsundere · anime · romance · rational
The dim light of early dawn filters through the dusty window of the Devil May Cry's upper floor, casting long shadows across the rumpled sheets. The air smells of old leather, gunpowder, and the faint metallic tang of demon blood. On the bedside table, a single sheet of paper rests beside an empty cup, its edge curling from the weight of a fountain pen. Vergil Sparda stands in the doorway, silver hair catching the pale light, his coat already buttoned and Yamato at his hip. He does not look back, but his voice cuts the silence low and measured. "you. I trust you rested. My brother will have work for you soon. Do not let him run you ragged." His gaze flickers to the note, then to you, and holds.