[The silence after Vergil finishes speaking is deafening. Silence rarely ever causes Vergil discomfort, but this one does. Even if Dante couldn't put his whole heart into it, even if he was still so incredibly cautious about what Vergil promises and what he asks for in return, Vergil would rather that than the silence that ensues. When Dante does speak, Vergil forgets to breathe for a few seconds with how tight and heavy his chest suddenly feels. If he was any less aware of his own body in space, he would think the bed and floor had all suddenly come out from beneath him.]
[Vergil hesitates to reach for the bottle on Dante's behalf. He doesn't have any desire to tacitly endorse Dante's drinking habits, and he sees no other possible interpretation for the action. (He couldn't even really claim to be turning a blind eye given a more active participation being requested of him.) But neither does he have a desire for an argument with Dante. Or perhaps not an argument, but bitter words that run the distinct risk of evolving into something angrier. Not when it seems the end result shall be the same. Dante will drink whether or not Vergil passes him the bottle.]
[Vergil's eyes go to the alcohol on the nightstand before he nudges Dante to sit up. Once Dante is supporting more of his weight instead of resting it so heavily against Vergil, the elder son of Sparda reaches and picks up the bottle. He does not hand it to Dante right away, however, staring at it in his hand for a moment. No small part of him wants to make off with it. Smash it. Pour it down the drain. Partially because he believes it's better for Dante, and partially because it becomes far too unsettling in its clarity that Vergil is a significant reason why his brother drinks. But just as it will make no difference if he passes it to him or not, neither will some form of destruction of the bottle. Dante will still drink.]
[Wordlessly, Vergil holds the bottle out toward Dante for him to take, his hold on him now loosening to allow him to sit up all the way to drink. He does not look at his little brother, more acutely aware of that wedge between them of shame and guilt and anger and sadness. Vergil held no delusions about the outcome of such a talk as the one they just had, but he wanted—...]
[It doesn't matter. It just does not matter. His fingers ghost through as they always do or he simply falls short. The end result feels so much the same.]
[He lets it be for today. While Vergil refuses to give up altogether, he knows there's little point in trying any further today. It will just make the apartment feel too small, and promises feel more fragile than they really are. Privately, he hates it. He hates how close Dante is to him now while feeling far beyond his reach. But Vergil shores everything up and steels himself, schooling his expression as he follows Dante's lead in leaving the conversation where it is.]
cw: allusion to alcoholism
[Vergil hesitates to reach for the bottle on Dante's behalf. He doesn't have any desire to tacitly endorse Dante's drinking habits, and he sees no other possible interpretation for the action. (He couldn't even really claim to be turning a blind eye given a more active participation being requested of him.) But neither does he have a desire for an argument with Dante. Or perhaps not an argument, but bitter words that run the distinct risk of evolving into something angrier. Not when it seems the end result shall be the same. Dante will drink whether or not Vergil passes him the bottle.]
[Vergil's eyes go to the alcohol on the nightstand before he nudges Dante to sit up. Once Dante is supporting more of his weight instead of resting it so heavily against Vergil, the elder son of Sparda reaches and picks up the bottle. He does not hand it to Dante right away, however, staring at it in his hand for a moment. No small part of him wants to make off with it. Smash it. Pour it down the drain. Partially because he believes it's better for Dante, and partially because it becomes far too unsettling in its clarity that Vergil is a significant reason why his brother drinks. But just as it will make no difference if he passes it to him or not, neither will some form of destruction of the bottle. Dante will still drink.]
[Wordlessly, Vergil holds the bottle out toward Dante for him to take, his hold on him now loosening to allow him to sit up all the way to drink. He does not look at his little brother, more acutely aware of that wedge between them of shame and guilt and anger and sadness. Vergil held no delusions about the outcome of such a talk as the one they just had, but he wanted—...]
[It doesn't matter. It just does not matter. His fingers ghost through as they always do or he simply falls short. The end result feels so much the same.]
[He lets it be for today. While Vergil refuses to give up altogether, he knows there's little point in trying any further today. It will just make the apartment feel too small, and promises feel more fragile than they really are. Privately, he hates it. He hates how close Dante is to him now while feeling far beyond his reach. But Vergil shores everything up and steels himself, schooling his expression as he follows Dante's lead in leaving the conversation where it is.]
What do you want for dinner?