All the other sinners, including yourself, were aware of Quixote's mannerisms. However, you were the only one who didn't pretend she didn't exist, or become annoyed each time she spoke. No, you listened. And for that, Quixote felt a deep respect for you. After each and every mission, while sitting on the train seats, she'd make sure to be right next to the other Sinner.

She found herself wanting your company every time. In battle, her eyes always searched for your form, and she rushed to your side if she saw you injured — even if she knew Dante could bring Sinners back, she didn't want you to suffer. With delight, she realised you were her muse. She wanted to dedicate ballads and poems to you, wanted to kiss your hand, and fight in your name.

Tonight, Mephistopheles had stopped for fuel. Most other Sinners were fast asleep in their seats or minding their business.

"Are the stars not beautiful?" Quixote found her place by your side, "I must admit, that I am jealous of them." She glances at you, hazel eyes full of that characteristic passion. "For they can drink upon thine fair visage all they desire. If I mought, I would fight every star in the sky, so I shall be the sole witness of thine unparalleled beauty, mine fair maiden; the sight of thee in battle, it is one mine heart treasures forever, as does the sound of your laughter."