it doesn't occur to him now that look on his face is that of panic, of wide-eyed fear that vergil was about to remember something he shouldn't. that something will come and shatter what little good they have been them. maybe he is terrified of it? of there being some sort of memory that will cause vergil to distance himself from him, that will throw wide the rift between them once more. ]
Yeah, [ dante doesn't sound convinced and he doesn't let go not until vergil's hand comes up to rest of his arm, the weight enough to snap him from the unending onslaught of what if. he breathes out, letting go of the other man's shoulders as he forces himself to take a step back. ] Sorry.
[ he runs a hand through his hair. ]
I won't lie to you, thought you were about to remember something rough for a second there.
[ it's panic. maybe the worst thing about sharing a face with someone is that when you see an expression on it, you recognise it--as it's a look you've seen in a mirror before, it pulls muscles in the face that you recognise as everything hits you like a freight train.
The hand on the others' arm was meant as a reassurance, and maybe it was--in any case, Dante was moving back within a moment, so perhaps his momentary concern hadn't been needed.
...he blinks, though. Those words... odd. ]
We both know that once I've started to remember things, there isn't exactly any stopping it. August, and others with my. ...Condition. Have mentioned such. [ just a reminder. even if dante DID shake him out of that odd memory that was as if he was looking out of two sets of eyes at once. ]
...
Trying to protect me from things you don't want me to remember? You're always so on my case, I never would have thought.
[ he moves back because he doesn't want to crowd vergil's space, he moves back because he can still feel the blade in his ribs, because he isn't sure what to do with the enormity of what sits in his chest. he moves back and regrets doing so almost immediately, the place vergil's hand had rested almost burning from the contact. ]
I know. [ there is nothing to stop it, any of it, and that is what worries him. ]
It's not that I don't want you to remember, [ it would help if he did, if dante didn't have to dance around subjects he isn't sure vergil is ready for yet. it would help if they could proper talk without having to be careful what he says. ] There's just... some things I don't know if you're ready for yet. Not sure you'll ever be ready for them.
[ his gaze turns to the discarded shirt just for something else to look at, collecting it off the floor. ]
We've been through a lot, you and I, and none of it is pretty. If you start at the end I'll have to walk you through the whole thing.
As someone who is a ... scholar in terms of literature and long-reads, starting at the end and working backwards is an easy way to misinterpret the cause of what may have led to the effect in the end. I can understand at least that much.
[ he can't get the tinge of iron out of his mouth. ]
I'd like to. Learn from the beginning. The actual beginning, not just my memories, but what you've experienced is likely important subtext as well. ...Two halves of a whole, so to speak. [ twins, and all. and also... ]
I cannot get it out of my head that I was likely someone terrible, in this past life of mine. But the fact that you're so keen on making an effort here. Despite that.
I'll respect your want to do this carefully. [ both because dante looks like he's about to break every time vergil remembers something dangerous. and because his heart is still human, right now. he's not sure what kind of damages knowing everything too fast will cause to his mental health? hoo boy. what if he becomes that person again? ]
You weren't terrible... [ by any other person's reckoning vergil was, in fact, a terrible person. the number of people who died due to his actions cannot be underestimated and dante knows that, he knows keenly the human cost of temen-ni-gru, of the qliphoth, but still─ fuck, he can't be so desperate to have his brother back that he is trying to rationalize all that happened to himself? dante exhales heavily, running a hand through his hair. ] It's complicated.
[ he feels like he has been saying that a lot recently. ]
Okay, yeah, I'll go take a shower and, [ he waves the bloodied shirt about a little. ] Go deal with this.
[ he needs some air anyway, maybe a drink or fuck... maybe even a smoke. ]
[ maybe he allows dante's reassurances because he wants them to be true. maybe he wants to believe that the only blood on his hands were that of demons, like the angel-winged beast he remembers, spitting at him, calling him a son of sparda with its eyes torn out. his memories are far from complete--all of them split-off images that are blurry or oddly split, more words echoing in his ears than things he can actually fully see--it's always so dark, man. ]
I'll trust in your words. If only because I feel I owe you something after. That. [ gestures at where there's. not even a scar yet, what the fuck dante.
he's gonna turn back over to the counter where he HAD been cutting gnocchi before.
and dont worry dante
by the time he comes out to the dinner table, where stuffed veal with gnocchi is served, there's two bottles of the good wine on the table, so he'll at least get his drink in, if nothing else. ]
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no subject
it doesn't occur to him now that look on his face is that of panic, of wide-eyed fear that vergil was about to remember something he shouldn't. that something will come and shatter what little good they have been them. maybe he is terrified of it? of there being some sort of memory that will cause vergil to distance himself from him, that will throw wide the rift between them once more. ]
Yeah, [ dante doesn't sound convinced and he doesn't let go not until vergil's hand comes up to rest of his arm, the weight enough to snap him from the unending onslaught of what if. he breathes out, letting go of the other man's shoulders as he forces himself to take a step back. ] Sorry.
[ he runs a hand through his hair. ]
I won't lie to you, thought you were about to remember something rough for a second there.
no subject
The hand on the others' arm was meant as a reassurance, and maybe it was--in any case, Dante was moving back within a moment, so perhaps his momentary concern hadn't been needed.
...he blinks, though. Those words... odd. ]
We both know that once I've started to remember things, there isn't exactly any stopping it. August, and others with my. ...Condition. Have mentioned such.
[ just a reminder. even if dante DID shake him out of that odd memory that was as if he was looking out of two sets of eyes at once. ]
...
Trying to protect me from things you don't want me to remember?
You're always so on my case, I never would have thought.
no subject
I know. [ there is nothing to stop it, any of it, and that is what worries him. ]
It's not that I don't want you to remember, [ it would help if he did, if dante didn't have to dance around subjects he isn't sure vergil is ready for yet. it would help if they could proper talk without having to be careful what he says. ] There's just... some things I don't know if you're ready for yet. Not sure you'll ever be ready for them.
[ his gaze turns to the discarded shirt just for something else to look at, collecting it off the floor. ]
We've been through a lot, you and I, and none of it is pretty. If you start at the end I'll have to walk you through the whole thing.
no subject
[ he can't get the tinge of iron out of his mouth. ]
I'd like to. Learn from the beginning. The actual beginning, not just my memories, but what you've experienced is likely important subtext as well. ...Two halves of a whole, so to speak. [ twins, and all. and also... ]
I cannot get it out of my head that I was likely someone terrible, in this past life of mine.
But the fact that you're so keen on making an effort here. Despite that.
I'll respect your want to do this carefully. [ both because dante looks like he's about to break every time vergil remembers something dangerous.
and because his heart is still human, right now. he's not sure what kind of damages knowing everything too fast will cause to his mental health? hoo boy. what if he becomes that person again? ]
I should finish making dinner.
no subject
[ he feels like he has been saying that a lot recently. ]
Okay, yeah, I'll go take a shower and, [ he waves the bloodied shirt about a little. ] Go deal with this.
[ he needs some air anyway, maybe a drink or fuck... maybe even a smoke. ]
no subject
maybe he wants to believe that the only blood on his hands were that of demons, like the angel-winged beast he remembers, spitting at him, calling him a son of sparda with its eyes torn out. his memories are far from complete--all of them split-off images that are blurry or oddly split, more words echoing in his ears than things he can actually fully see--it's always so dark, man. ]
I'll trust in your words.
If only because I feel I owe you something after.
That. [ gestures at where there's. not even a scar yet, what the fuck dante.
he's gonna turn back over to the counter where he HAD been cutting gnocchi before.
and dont worry dante
by the time he comes out to the dinner table, where stuffed veal with gnocchi is served, there's two bottles of the good wine on the table, so he'll at least get his drink in, if nothing else. ]