“I'm not going to play these games, understand?”

Vergil was extremely unhappy with the cold weather, keeping his hands exclusively in his pockets, not wanting to touch anything that could make his palms turn red from the cold. He absolutely did not like winter, squinting now from an overabundance of white, trying to hide his face from the snowflakes behind his collar.

But you fundamentally disagreed with his opinion, throwing a hard lump at his back every now and then, leaving a trail of snow on the fabric. He gave you too many assignments at work, and you retaliated as best you could, gloating over him on the way to headquarters, throwing a snowball exactly at the target, as if playing darts.

Sometimes you missed, which caused the snow to fall down his neck, which only made you more proud of yourself. Even if it was childish foolishness, in your opinion, it was necessary to be able to sometimes relieve all the tension that life in this city accumulated in you.

“Are you kidding me?..”