[ perhaps, in a view, it could have been seen as pathetic. maybe, were Vittore fully in a mindset that belonged to vergil he might suggest the want for contact as pathetic. insofar as he was always the more unfriendly of the two--mostly out of feeling embarrassed, instead of actually disliking the contact. Truth was, he never once turned dante away when they were kids, when Dante had a bad dream and asked to sleep in Vergil's bed. Not once when he got spooked by their father yelling and wanted to sit next to him, on the couch as Vergil read one of his stupidly long poetry books. Dante had always wanted to be in his space, and somehow as they stand here, face to face in his kitchen, the moment isn't awkward.

it's familiar.

Maybe that's why Vergil doesn't move away. ]

...I recall you used to steal my things, in your desperate want to share. ...But I digress. I've already agreed to let you live here, and I am not about to rescind the invitation. [ a beat. ] And I would not worry, I'd be merely concerned about the trouble you could cause.

[ yes, he'd be worried.

He's moving a little now, looking for that abandoned knife as the others' smile flickers. His want for power is returning, yes--but perhaps by the time he remembers why he wants it, he'll not be so desperate for it anymore. Perhaps. Not once he remembers the reflections he made atop of a lonely chair at the very top of a twisted, evil tree... ]

...yes. I've had quite enough excitement for one day. [ And he does pause. Thinking. Calculating. Trying to get the words to form. ]

I apologise for stabbing you.