Vergil sighed, a heavy sigh that seemed to carry more sarcasm than weariness. He returned slowly, pulling out his chair with a metallic scrape that echoed around the small island.
He sat across from her again, leaning back with the lazy elegance of someone in control of the game.
"So?" he said, crossing his arms and tilting his head. "You want to prolong the moment. Great. But tell me... what exactly do you want to talk about?"
Qliphoth remained still for a few seconds, as if she hadn't expected him to give in so easily. Her smile faded a bit, becoming more real, almost human.
"I don't know." The answer came dry, simple.
Vergil arched an eyebrow. "You don't know?"
She looked away from the empty cup and ran her finger along the rim as if searching for some answer there. "I don't talk." Her golden eyes returned to him, filled with something strange, a barely concealed vulnerability. "Not often." Bad with… people.
