[Vergil moves from the kitchen over to his closet, sliding it open and pulling out his sleep clothes.]
That's not necessary, [he says on his way to the bathroom for his shower with a slight shake of his head.] Dante can take care of himself.
[...Vergil may be more convincing himself than Nero by saying that, but it's also not inherently untrue either. Both of them have been on their own for long enough that Vergil and Dante absolutely know how to look after themselves, and stay safe. There also just really isn't that much that could pose as a threat to either son of Sparda in Folkmore realistically speaking. So, there's probably nothing to really worry about, but... Well, he's just as intent on being the older brother that he always should have been to Dante as is to be a father to Nero, and Vergil simply does not believe in half-measures when it comes to anything. But he will at least avoid nagging his brother even through his son.]
[Disappearing into the bathroom for his shower, Vergil's glad to be out of his clothes more than anything else. They're mostly dry now, but it's never particularly comfortable remaining in clothes that were previously dampened or outright soaked by the snow. He's quick with his shower and readying for bed likely as Nero is finishing up with Blue Rose. Plucking one of his books from the shelf, Vergil returns to the table only long enough to pick up his hot remaining hot chocolate as a substitute for his nightly cup of tea before heading to bed. The hot chocolate ends up on the nightstand as he props his pillows against the headboard to comfortably sit up in bed and read. Since Nero intends to turn in, he turns on the light on the nightstand so the rest of the apartment can be darkened and Vergil's reading is less likely to bother Nero while he sleeps.]
[He almost argues that it's not a matter of taking care of himself, or anything of the sort. It just seems kind of stupid to sit around obviously bothered about Dante's whereabouts and yet refuse the easy, technological solution to that.
But hey, whatever. Nero will just message Dante of his own volition.
Vergil heads off to shower and Nero finishes up his cleaning, then neatly puts Blue Rose back together and stores her in her case. He packs up his cleaning supplies and turns off the relic, then heads into the kitchen to wash those dishes in the sink. By the time he's done, Vergil's out of the bathroom and he can head in himself.
He heads into the bedroom, teeth brushed, dressed down in a tank and boxers, and says nothing as he slips into bed on the other side of Vergil. Only then does he muster his courage and get out what he's been thinking ever since Vergil headed off.]
[Vergil glances over at Nero as he settles into his side of the bed. It's just a brief look as he turns a page, not interrupting his reading as his eyes return to the page once more before Nero's even fully reclined and settled. He's only brought to a halt when he hears that name, gaze immediately pulled from the words in front of him to the son lying beside him. Oh, it's so foolish the way his heart leaps into his throat upon hearing it, but... Well, it's not so small and simple a thing, is it? Not to a man who didn't dare hope for anything and set his expectations so very low.]
[He avoids staring at the boy, turning his gaze back to his book, but without any ability to read even if that were his intention. He merely stares at the pages before him, drawing a shaky breath as his vision blurs. Before Vergil can catch it, there's a soft plop against one of the pages, wetting one of the corners.]
[If he were asked, there is absolutely no way Vergil could possibly articulate the swell of emotion he feels in his chest. The moment he knew Nero was his son, that was simply it. He loved Nero beyond words, beyond anything or anyone he's ever loved before. There was no real choice in the matter, Vergil thinks. Each day that he's gotten to know him better has only solidified and strengthened those feelings even further. Vergil lives less and less solely for himself, and it feels that his continued survival through everything that has happened to him, that he has brought upon himself, takes on a greater meaning and purpose. It was all in service of this. But he knows it's not that simple for Nero. He's grown up without a mother or a father. He's found family in his own way, and he doesn't really need Vergil. But it's been his choice to give Vergil a chance. It's been his choice to forgive him for his wrongdoings and his shortcomings. It's been his choice to accept him as his father, as his...dad.]
[He'd have to be an idiot not to recognize how much of a gift that is.]
[He swipes at his eyes with the back of one of his hands before wiping away some of the moisture from the page to avoid it wrinkling later. If there's a little sniffle, he'd deny its obvious existence. It's clearly just a sound from him adjusting his hold on his book again so he can reach over to Nero with the hand closest to him to run his fingers through his hair ever so gently just the once. Quietly, he says,]
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That's not necessary, [he says on his way to the bathroom for his shower with a slight shake of his head.] Dante can take care of himself.
[...Vergil may be more convincing himself than Nero by saying that, but it's also not inherently untrue either. Both of them have been on their own for long enough that Vergil and Dante absolutely know how to look after themselves, and stay safe. There also just really isn't that much that could pose as a threat to either son of Sparda in Folkmore realistically speaking. So, there's probably nothing to really worry about, but... Well, he's just as intent on being the older brother that he always should have been to Dante as is to be a father to Nero, and Vergil simply does not believe in half-measures when it comes to anything. But he will at least avoid nagging his brother even through his son.]
[Disappearing into the bathroom for his shower, Vergil's glad to be out of his clothes more than anything else. They're mostly dry now, but it's never particularly comfortable remaining in clothes that were previously dampened or outright soaked by the snow. He's quick with his shower and readying for bed likely as Nero is finishing up with Blue Rose. Plucking one of his books from the shelf, Vergil returns to the table only long enough to pick up his hot remaining hot chocolate as a substitute for his nightly cup of tea before heading to bed. The hot chocolate ends up on the nightstand as he props his pillows against the headboard to comfortably sit up in bed and read. Since Nero intends to turn in, he turns on the light on the nightstand so the rest of the apartment can be darkened and Vergil's reading is less likely to bother Nero while he sleeps.]
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But hey, whatever. Nero will just message Dante of his own volition.
Vergil heads off to shower and Nero finishes up his cleaning, then neatly puts Blue Rose back together and stores her in her case. He packs up his cleaning supplies and turns off the relic, then heads into the kitchen to wash those dishes in the sink. By the time he's done, Vergil's out of the bathroom and he can head in himself.
He heads into the bedroom, teeth brushed, dressed down in a tank and boxers, and says nothing as he slips into bed on the other side of Vergil. Only then does he muster his courage and get out what he's been thinking ever since Vergil headed off.]
G'night. Dad.
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[He avoids staring at the boy, turning his gaze back to his book, but without any ability to read even if that were his intention. He merely stares at the pages before him, drawing a shaky breath as his vision blurs. Before Vergil can catch it, there's a soft plop against one of the pages, wetting one of the corners.]
[If he were asked, there is absolutely no way Vergil could possibly articulate the swell of emotion he feels in his chest. The moment he knew Nero was his son, that was simply it. He loved Nero beyond words, beyond anything or anyone he's ever loved before. There was no real choice in the matter, Vergil thinks. Each day that he's gotten to know him better has only solidified and strengthened those feelings even further. Vergil lives less and less solely for himself, and it feels that his continued survival through everything that has happened to him, that he has brought upon himself, takes on a greater meaning and purpose. It was all in service of this. But he knows it's not that simple for Nero. He's grown up without a mother or a father. He's found family in his own way, and he doesn't really need Vergil. But it's been his choice to give Vergil a chance. It's been his choice to forgive him for his wrongdoings and his shortcomings. It's been his choice to accept him as his father, as his...dad.]
[He'd have to be an idiot not to recognize how much of a gift that is.]
[He swipes at his eyes with the back of one of his hands before wiping away some of the moisture from the page to avoid it wrinkling later. If there's a little sniffle, he'd deny its obvious existence. It's clearly just a sound from him adjusting his hold on his book again so he can reach over to Nero with the hand closest to him to run his fingers through his hair ever so gently just the once. Quietly, he says,]
Goodnight, Nero.