[It feels a little like staring into bright lights-- catching a glimpse of the way Vergil's looking at him. It's not the first time he's seen that expression, in little flashes here and there. But this is the first time Vergil's smiled at him so openly-- or at least, the first time he's noticed it so keenly, and known what it means.
His father is proud of him.
For once, he finds himself unwilling to divert his eyes and look away, even though he's keenly aware how brightly he's flushing, and how close he is to the verge of abrupt, impulsive tears. Tearing up, at least. He exhales shakily and wrests back control of his emotions, and knows exactly the sentiment behind them.]
That means a lot, coming from you.
[Merely human. Petulant mortal flesh. Cursed, the moment you were brought into this world. Even as they came in the midst of exhaustion and agony, Nero hasn't forgotten those scornful words, nor has he forgotten that they came from one (dark, unmitigatedly cruel, concentratedly wicked) side of his own father. To see him now, contained, humanized, balanced and proud of him...
When it becomes too much, he glances away, somewhere across the room. He unconsciously grazes his fingers over his chest (over the heart his mother gave him,) and quietly nods.]
That's all I ever wanted. The power to protect the people I care about. Kyrie, and... [One more very brief sideways glance at Vergil before he adds, almost shyly,] my family.
no subject
His father is proud of him.
For once, he finds himself unwilling to divert his eyes and look away, even though he's keenly aware how brightly he's flushing, and how close he is to the verge of abrupt, impulsive tears. Tearing up, at least. He exhales shakily and wrests back control of his emotions, and knows exactly the sentiment behind them.]
That means a lot, coming from you.
[Merely human. Petulant mortal flesh. Cursed, the moment you were brought into this world. Even as they came in the midst of exhaustion and agony, Nero hasn't forgotten those scornful words, nor has he forgotten that they came from one (dark, unmitigatedly cruel, concentratedly wicked) side of his own father. To see him now, contained, humanized, balanced and proud of him...
When it becomes too much, he glances away, somewhere across the room. He unconsciously grazes his fingers over his chest (over the heart his mother gave him,) and quietly nods.]
That's all I ever wanted. The power to protect the people I care about. Kyrie, and... [One more very brief sideways glance at Vergil before he adds, almost shyly,] my family.