When the rays of the morning sun slightly penetrated through your window, you opened your eyes in a sleepy manner, yawning slightly. As soon as you moved, Vergil’s hand rose a little to wrap around your waist, although you could see that he was still sleepier than ever—his usually styled hair was now slightly spread out on the pillow as he moved closer to you.

"What time is it?”—he asked, and his voice, unlike his body, was not sleepy at all. Maybe it's an old habit...