A Frequency Of Me And You | By : Demonized Category: +A through F > Devil May Cry Views: 703 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0 |
Disclaimer: I do not own Devil May Cry, nor do I make any money off of this work. |
I give the room a quick once over as I enter it and grimace at the state of the bedding and the filth I had tracked across the floor towards the bathroom. It unsettles me to know that it's been like this for a week but there is no time to tend to it right now, nor the clothes I had left in a pile on the bathroom floor in the wake of the incident, so I force my attention away from the mess and move towards the wardrobe. The familiar scent of gun oil, leather, and home fills the air as I pull its doors open and I freeze at the sight of the garish red leather coat Dante had worn on the night I had summoned Temen-ni-gru so long ago just hanging there amidst his clothes.
Impossible to miss and yet I had done just that when I stood here in front of the wardrobe only a week ago. Granted it hadn't been for very long and I had been distracted. Still…
I gently brush my fingers down the sleeve, the leather soft and supple even after all this time, and stop short of the cleanly severed end. The entire forearm is missing and guilt immediately wells up within me. Regret quickly follows, along with an unmistakable pang in my heart, and I snatch my hand away from the jacket with the irrational thought that I will somehow damage it even further by continuing to touch it.
"Are ya okay, Verge?" Dante quietly asks from my left side, his tone laced with worry.
"I'll be fine," I respond with a glance in his direction. His gaze flits between me and the open wardrobe, his expression pinched, before he finally settles on just watching me. "I'm surprised you kept your jacket from back then," I say as I reach back into the wardrobe, taking care to avoid touching said jacket and select something to wear.
"I never really thought about getting rid of it," Dante admits, his voice still somewhat quiet.
"Why not?" I inquire as I bundle a clean pair of black jeans and a dark grey long-sleeved shirt to my chest then look at him over my shoulder.
"I just didn't," Dante responds with a shrug, his gaze meeting mine. "Now hurry up and get dressed, Verge. Ya don't want t' keep Nero waitin' any longer."
"No, I don't," I say lowly and turn away to go set the clothes down on the corner of the desk. My gaze briefly lands on the journal still laid out on top of it and for a second my curiosity over it piques again. I make a mental note to take a look at it once Nero and I return from our trip to the bank as I strip out of my clothes.
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