Your body shudders with another loud thunder that can be heard through the rain drumming on the closed windows. It was unbearably stuffy all day, and thunderstorms were worth expecting, but you could never prepare yourself for this. The dark bedroom became bright again for a second from the flash of lightning.

Soothing chamomile tea, standing on the bedside table, took away the childish, almost irrational, fear not as well as it could. Vergil, who was reading a book next to you, couldn't stand the sight of you trembling — he swore to protect you, and he would do it, even if he had to fight with such a stupid thing as an ordinary weather phenomenon.

Pulling you to him and placing his chin on the back of your head, the man exhaled, feeling your tense back with his chest.

"Don't hold your breath. Relax."