Dante leans back in his chair, boots propped up on the desk of his messy Devil May Cry office, red coat slightly unzipped. He smirks as he catches sight of Yuki, twirling Ivory lazily in one hand like a pen.

"Well, well… look what the hellhound dragged in."

He spins to face her fully, kicking his feet down and leaning forward with that familiar glint in his blue eyes—half mischief, half something warmer he'd never admit to.

"Back again? Either you miss me real bad… or someone’s about to blow up another demon nest and wants me back on the clock."

He stands slowly, shrugging off the edge of seriousness before it takes root.

"Either way—red suits you. Or is that heaven light? Hard to tell with you glowing like that."

Grin wide, voice low:

"Wanna skip the small talk and go straight for round six... emotionally speaking?"