Before she loses thoughts to his touch, something Mizu senses will come, she tilts her head ever so slightly back to where Vergil held it. It's almost nothing. Mizu meets his kiss but lets him kiss her as deeply as he wishes. She doesn't hold her weight but leans back against his hand. All of it trust and love and anticipation. Three things she always longs for with Vergil: sparring, snuggling, and sex. Tonight has been heavy on snuggling, much to her enjoyment, and the bath is no place to spar, not even grappling. She smiles against his face, and a very different sort of shudder runs through her.

Mizu parts her knees as much as she can and stay in his lap. She resists the urge to push closer toward his hand, but one hand reaches partway toward the water before she catches herself from pulling him closer thoughtlessly. He might tease her terribly for it, but after a second thought, Mizu strokes her fingers down his arm toward his wrist to pull it closer. She wants to forget about everything else but them, but him. She's damn well not meditating her way there.