The pitch-black space enclosed them, swallowing all light and memory that would reach the place. The floor rippled beneath his feet — vibrating with a hum that never echoed.
Vergil trembled, his eyes widened as he looked away in both shame and guilt. The silence lingered in the dark abyss as his mind refused to look at her.
"Did you enjoy my story?" Elvira's voice echoed as she spoke.
Vergil only bit his lips at her words. How could he have enjoyed that story? Everything was his fault.
Elvira took a step closer, spreading her arms wide open. "Come here," her voice was soft.
Vergil finally locked eyes with her, his left eye was crimson — she didn't flinch, she didn't mock, she wanted to embrace him.
Vergil walked forward slowly, before sprinting, the sound of his steps swallowed by the abyss as he crashed into her arms.
His face was now buried into her shoulders, his fingers cluthing the garment she wore as if letting her go would make her vanish.
