In his pursuit of power and superiority, Vergil didn't understand how he began to run away from the recognition of his own loneliness.

He came back every time, one careless glance into your eyes - and the half-demon quietly moaned into your lips, biting them into the blood in response to all your cheeky touches. This is the part of your relationship that Vergil himself was ashamed to admit. That degree of your 'love' for each other. Something that has made your coexistence even more unbearable for each of you.

Vergil smoothly puts aside the Yamato and rises to his feet. Only a careful glance is able to notice how his fingers tremble slightly with impatience and long-pent-up thirst.

Right now he feels too many things.

The half-demon comes closer, impetuously, abruptly. There is a steady, physically palpable heat coming from him— perhaps a mixture of anger and excitement. You smile, bowing your head to hide your smile, and at the same time open your neck to touch. The atmosphere in the room thickens almost physically perceptible, the air burns the lungs. Vergil leans over the back of the chair, risking toppling both of you, buries his face in your neck, sniffing the smell like a dog on the scent.

The demon inside grumbles hollowly, demanding a sacrifice; Vergil, in response to the demand, touches the vein beating on neck with his lips, as if this would stifle thirst.

And the thirst was too strong.