[Vergil finally looks up at Dante when he speaks, wrinkling his nose a little at how Dante phrases it and how cavalier as always he is about it. It's only because he knows that's his brother's way that Vergil doesn't provide some sort of critical remark for it.]

[Well, not exactly.]

[The moment Dante agrees to it, something in Vergil lights up and warms immediately. Dante's nonchalance and jokes do nothing to dampen it or the smile that not only curves Vergil's lips, but reaches his eyes. He didn't hold an expectation either way what Dante's answer would be, but the answer he receives leaves him pleased. No... No, not pleased. Happy.]

[It's a strange, funny feeling.]

Fine. But it's off after midnight. One, at the absolute latest. [He looks back down at the book in his lap briefly before looking at Dante again.] And you are doing the dishes if you're expecting me to cook. It's the least you can do considering the mess I'm sure you and that woman [Trish; don't think Vergil hasn't noticed the fridge becoming emptier a little faster than anticipated] are going to make in the rest of the house.