[At the sound of his door opening, Vergil looks over his shoulder at Nero. There's a confused furrow to his brow at first. Tea and toast weren't really on the list of possibilities that Vergil had been speculating on while waiting for Nero, and it seems a strange choice. But the expression lessens once Nero explains them to be a childhood comfort.]
[...Well. The honey toast, anyway. Based on the faces Vergil's witnessed Nero stifling when he makes his little demands to try Vergil's teas, he can't imagine the chamomile was particularly favored or comforting to Nero as a child. But he knows his father's preference for tea, so he includes it anyway even if the toast is the star. It's a...sweet and kind gesture in sharing something of himself in an earnest attempt to be helpful and look after Vergil.]
[Normally, Vergil would be prone to bristling over it. He hasn't needed help with a bad dream since he was a child, and he wasn't keen on being treated in any manner that implied otherwise now. But the boy's sincerity cannot be misconstrued as condescending or patronizing, or as though there were some hidden insults to Vergil's pride beneath the gesture. So, instead, Vergil is left uncertain what he's meant to do with it.]
[For as much as Vergil has others around him these days, his independence is usually still something he's enforced and carefully protected. It leaves gestures like this one few and far between, but leave it to the boy to find his way so cleanly past everything Vergil may put up as resistance. There are times Vergil wants to be resentful for it—vulnerability of any kind still rings as the incorrect choice to him even now—but whatever he could possibly summon against Nero is undone in an instant for no greater reason than he is Vergil's son and the knowledge that adding him further to the lengthy list of Vergil's regrets would surely kill him. So, he remains far more tolerant and less argumentative were it likely anyone else.]
[He remains still while Nero flops himself down on the other side of the bed, only pushing himself to sit up once Nero is settled. Vergil takes the mug, but leaves the plate of toast where it is for the moment.]
Thank you.
[He says it somewhat stiffly, likely letting it be known to Nero that he plainly does not know what to do with any of this. He's no less sincere, however, despite the awkwardness of it.]
no subject
[...Well. The honey toast, anyway. Based on the faces Vergil's witnessed Nero stifling when he makes his little demands to try Vergil's teas, he can't imagine the chamomile was particularly favored or comforting to Nero as a child. But he knows his father's preference for tea, so he includes it anyway even if the toast is the star. It's a...sweet and kind gesture in sharing something of himself in an earnest attempt to be helpful and look after Vergil.]
[Normally, Vergil would be prone to bristling over it. He hasn't needed help with a bad dream since he was a child, and he wasn't keen on being treated in any manner that implied otherwise now. But the boy's sincerity cannot be misconstrued as condescending or patronizing, or as though there were some hidden insults to Vergil's pride beneath the gesture. So, instead, Vergil is left uncertain what he's meant to do with it.]
[For as much as Vergil has others around him these days, his independence is usually still something he's enforced and carefully protected. It leaves gestures like this one few and far between, but leave it to the boy to find his way so cleanly past everything Vergil may put up as resistance. There are times Vergil wants to be resentful for it—vulnerability of any kind still rings as the incorrect choice to him even now—but whatever he could possibly summon against Nero is undone in an instant for no greater reason than he is Vergil's son and the knowledge that adding him further to the lengthy list of Vergil's regrets would surely kill him. So, he remains far more tolerant and less argumentative were it likely anyone else.]
[He remains still while Nero flops himself down on the other side of the bed, only pushing himself to sit up once Nero is settled. Vergil takes the mug, but leaves the plate of toast where it is for the moment.]
Thank you.
[He says it somewhat stiffly, likely letting it be known to Nero that he plainly does not know what to do with any of this. He's no less sincere, however, despite the awkwardness of it.]