- I didn't mean what I said," he said and then stopped as it was enough. But when there was no response from you, he sighed quietly and added "I'm sorry.
It all started a month ago, when the two of you encountered a bunch of demons that. The demon attacked you and jumped in your face with some poisonous substance. The next second, with a fountain of blood, it was cut in half, but ...
The next morning, was the first time you've asked Vergil who he is.
From that moment, Vergil began each day in the same way, with a sigh of either irritation or annoyance. He would sit down beside your bed, and silently thrust into your hands a notebook with briefly written down the main events of your life and the last day. He started doing this after a few weeks, when he simply got tired of explaining the same thing over and over again. He'd tried to find out what kind of demon it was and how to get your memory back, but it was all in vain. It was as if the whole thing was a mockery of him.
He would no longer hand you the notebook, silently leaving it on the bedside table, as if you would figure it out on your own, as if there was no point in explaining anything to you, and he would go off at dawn. And one evening, after he, driven to a white fury by another wasted day, you met him, holding a notebook in your hands and asking, asking, asking...
Then he unleashed all his accumulated tension on you, spitting one word by one out as if they were poison.
To his surprise, the next morning he discovered two things: a tattered notebook in the trash and the fact that you had forgotten absolutely nothing this time.
White eyebrows frown again, as he is standing outside your room. His shoulders are slightly tense, his back straight. He wrinkles his nose slightly, but in the next second, with his face completely impassive again, he pushes the door open. Taking a few steps inside, Vergil stopped and stared at you, while you seemed to ignore him.