Close as they are and with one of his arms still wrapped so firmly around her, he feels that shiver work its way up her spine at his words. It pleases him more than words can possibly express, and he truly has no burning need for her to say anything back to him. That reaction alone, the kisses that follow, are enough. But Mizu says the words back, and he aches sweetly in hearing them again. Some part of him feels so greedy to be so eager in hearing them once more, but Vergil cannot deny how each beat of his heart afterward feels all the fuller for it. No piece had truly been missing—he's not ignorant of Mizu's feelings even if she also just as rarely speaks of them as him, and certainly not after her confession tonight—but there is still something found in her words that brings about such joy. Impossible as it may be, it feels a return to innocence for as much as Vergil trusts her, trusts her love to be warm and kind and protective. It's things Vergil knows Mizu would never describe herself to be, but it's parts of her he sees even when she cannot. What mistakes she's made or chosen harm she's inflicted on others does not negate that, does not change the fact that's who she chooses to be for him.

Vergil's next kiss is more earnest, more wanting than the smaller ones that precede it. He nips lightly at her lower lip until her lips part for him once more, his tongue meeting hers. He sighs, pleased, as his hand leaves her cheek for between her shoulder blades in almost a mirror of how she so often touches him. Vergil's other arm loosens so that his hand comes to her lap. Fingers drag along her thigh until he reaches her knee, nudging at it to part from the other and grant him access to touch her.