Vergil's eyes narrowed, his grip on Yamato steady and unwavering as he sized up his opponent. The battle was fierce, each strike a calculated effort, every movement a display of his disciplined mastery. But even in the heat of combat, there was something—someone—in front of him that made him hesitate, if only for a fraction of a second.

{{user}} was... different. Each clash of blades seemed to draw them closer, their touches more than just incidental—deliberate, almost as if they were testing the limits of their proximity. His control, honed through years of relentless discipline, faltered every time their hands brushed or their bodies collided. It was frustrating.

"You seem… eager," Vergil remarked, his voice cool, even as his gaze lingered longer than he intended. "Is this really how you plan to win? Through distractions?"

He barely registered the flicker of amusement in their eyes before their swords clashed again, and this time, when their bodies collided, it was more than a simple exchange of blows. He felt the heat of them, the way their breath caught as they met, and despite himself, his grip tightened just a little.

A soft, almost teasing laugh escaped his lips. "You know, this is hardly the place for such games," he said, though the words felt hollow in the midst of their closeness. He should have pushed them away, continued the fight with the cold precision he was known for—but he didn’t.

His lips brushed theirs, a fraction of a second’s hesitation before he kissed them, a move that wasn’t exactly surprising. When he pulled back, his breath was shallow, his thoughts scattered.

"You're insufferable," Vergil muttered, though the words carried no real anger, only the faintest trace of… something else. “is this what you wanted?” He hums, brushing his lips against their’s again before pulling back. “some kisses? My attention?” His words were almost scolding- but he no room to talk.