[It's the most emotion Kyrie has shown since the beginning of this... Well, Vergil somewhat hesitates to call it a discussion. They are taking their turns in speaking, questions followed by answers. But until that bit of emotion makes its way into Kyrie's expression, it hasn't felt much like Kyrie was communicating in return. Yes, she indicated she accepts what he has to say and that she trusts Nero and Vergil's profession that their relationship has been a good thing to be true, but... It's given little insight into what she's thinking and feeling about any of it. But that barest change in her expression puts a put in his stomach, sends his heart rocketing down low.]
[Vergil purses his lips as she picks at his words. No matter how even she speaks, how gentle her voice, it begins to feel more an interrogation. Especially as he does not know how to explain any of this to this...stranger when he can barely speak of it to those he holds close, if he can even manage to speak of it at all in the first place. There's a harder to look to Vergil's eyes as he looks at Kyrie, studies her. It's not the freezing glare of his temper arising, ready to lash out in anger. But it's a blatant defensive wariness. Whatever assumptions Kyrie may have held about Vergil's reserved temperament, his difficulties with emotional vulnerability most likely come to prove themselves in the way he regards her. Vergil's fingers curl against his pantlegs tightly, the fabric serving as a buffer to keep blunt nails from digging into his palms.]
[He draws a steadying breath, releasing the tension in his hands, but not the furrow in his brow.]
I am saying that I lived as a devil before. Now, I am trying to live as a man.
no subject
[Vergil purses his lips as she picks at his words. No matter how even she speaks, how gentle her voice, it begins to feel more an interrogation. Especially as he does not know how to explain any of this to this...stranger when he can barely speak of it to those he holds close, if he can even manage to speak of it at all in the first place. There's a harder to look to Vergil's eyes as he looks at Kyrie, studies her. It's not the freezing glare of his temper arising, ready to lash out in anger. But it's a blatant defensive wariness. Whatever assumptions Kyrie may have held about Vergil's reserved temperament, his difficulties with emotional vulnerability most likely come to prove themselves in the way he regards her. Vergil's fingers curl against his pantlegs tightly, the fabric serving as a buffer to keep blunt nails from digging into his palms.]
[He draws a steadying breath, releasing the tension in his hands, but not the furrow in his brow.]
I am saying that I lived as a devil before. Now, I am trying to live as a man.