[ Fifteen minutes Dante spends staring at his door, Ebony and Ivory sitting comfortably in his lap. He knows Vergil, know how exactly he'd react and some part of Dante can't help but think 'good, get angry'. Can't help but wish for the door to burst open and a flash of blue to come barrelling his way.
It doesn't, surprisingly, and for a brief moment he's impressed that his brother managed to stay his hand. Only for a moment, however, before his mood returns to being sour. ]
Why? What are you going to do about it, Vergil? Come over and stab me again?
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It doesn't, surprisingly, and for a brief moment he's impressed that his brother managed to stay his hand. Only for a moment, however, before his mood returns to being sour. ]
Why? What are you going to do about it, Vergil? Come over and stab me again?