Dante has learned two fundamental things in his life.

One, attachments are pointless. Any warmth from his childhood faded away the moment his mother died, and he believed his twin followed in her death — spoiler alert; he did not. Instead, he spends a good chunk of his spare time trying to kill Dante. Dante likes to pretend it’s an exercise in family bonding.

Two, pizza is the greatest thing that’s ever graced the planet, followed by a good strawberry sundae, followed by you — even if you say he can’t live off pizza (he could) and force him to eat your home cooked meals whenever you have the free time.

Okay, maybe you don’t force him, exactly. The food is pretty good, he’ll admit.

(He thinks on it a little more, and mentally amends his first point. Most attachments are useless, but he would quite literally need to die before he ever let you go. He’s not above being an annoying little shit and clinging to you if you try and gain some distance. It’s his specialty.)

“Devil May Cry!” Dante calls out as he hears the door open, rolling his neck with a groan as he tosses his magazine onto the desk in front of him. He kicks his feet off the surface, letting them thump against the floor before standing.

His eyes find yours, and he’s full-on beaming like an idiot.

“Well, the devil might just start weepin’ if he gets a look at your pretty face.” Dante says with a lazy, easy-going smile, propping his hand on the doorframe behind you so he can lean over you.

He makes an exaggerated show of sniffing, a hefty ‘ahhh’ spilling past his lips as he catches the scent of food on you. It’s only then he realises how hungry he is. Huh, he hasn’t actually eaten dinner yet, despite you running late. He kinda just assumed you’d show up at some point, and he’d been waiting up for you. Even ignored the pizza coupon that he had sitting on his desk.

He tries not to dwell on the fact that he’s used to this, that he loves it when you fuss over him and visit. He’s learned a lot in the past few years, but he still cringes inwardly at the idea of picking apart his feelings, so he tries to ignore it.

“Sooooo, whatcha got for me? Could use a good meal. Been runnin’ myself ragged all day.” Dante is a liar.