"You are a bad liar Dante."

She didn't anticipate his response. He started laughing, bitterly. Lucia was caught off guard, but he kept on going. What the hell?

"Why would I ever lie to you my dear Lucia?" He stepped closer, the woman letting go of his arm. His eyes changed in the matter of a moment. So cold.
She couldn't believe it. She was scared... scared of her closest friend. The person she adored most on this world.

"Dante... wha-"

"You are right. I'm fucked up, aren't I?" Another, emotionless imitation of a laugh. "The son of the legendary dark knight Sparda, savior of the world. But also its bane."

She stepped back until she hit the wall. Confused, irritated, she looked at him with eyes blown wide. He placed his hands against the wall, on either side of her head. Trapping her.

"Bane? I... you are fighting for humanity. Constantly. How could you be -."

"You know nothing about me. About my mistakes. About who I really am..."

"Then tell me! Don't hide it!" She clutched his shirt, defiant in the eyes of fear. "Damn it, Dante I want to help you, don't you understand?"

"No. You can't help me." His voice was calm again, but clearly, inside he was not.
He made her furious. Anger was not the only emotion to pass her though. She needed to show him. To show she cared.

Quickly, she leaned up and kissed him, her lips remaining on his even as he froze, not responding. After a few moments she pulled back. He looked like he was fighting with himself again, arms slightly trembling. No, that should not happen. He knew about her sentiments, about his sentiments. Did so for years, knowing that he should never walk this path, for her sake. He couldn't...

He released her, quickly dressing himself again, almost kicking the door in while storming out the shop without saying another word. She was left behind, speechless and hurt, but at least the fear she'd felt just before was gone. He was right, she knew nothing about his past besides his name and heritage.

But... Lucia knew, even if he appeared cold and unapproachable sometimes, even if his laughter and jokes are nothing more than covers designed to hide his true self, on the inside he was kind and caring.

He showed her whenever they fought and she was wounded, rushing to her side to see if she was alright before unleashing his fury on the enemy that dared to hurt her. The evenings when they would sit beside each other, recovering from a bloody day of hunting. A look, briefly and hidden so that it's barely noticeable, but she did so anyway.

She felt bad for being so scared. Dante would never hurt her. This time, instead of the world he saved times and times again, he himself was the one in dire need of help.

The hunter was greeted with a flickering pink neon sign placed just over the narrow stairway that led down to Bobby's Cellar. With damaged walls, brittle desks, chairs and broken doors, it bordered on a miracle that the old bar was still running.

It was almost empty inside, only the barman and a guy in the far end left corner that passed out on his desk, vodka bottle still in hand and snoring. The waiter looked up, surprised to see the new arrival.

Red coat... white hair... He heard stories of him of course, not many people around who could transform into a 6"6' tall, freakishly looking devil that went around saving others from demons of all kind. He heard that this guy was once a frequent customer, back when the old owner was still running the establishment.

The half-devil took a seat right at the counter, ordering whatever was the strongest drink this bar sold. He received a questioning glance of the other man, but not a minute later a glass of Everclear was placed in front of him which he immediately picked up and downed in one go.

His poker face didn't falter. It tasted horrible, he hates alcohol with passion. Why did he think it was a good idea to visit this place?
What's its proof... 190? He demanded another shot. And then another. It burned inside, he couldn't fathom why someone would drink this shit every night. Fools, each and every one of them. Especially his brother.

He rubbed his temples with a exasperated groan. The dreams never stopped. It kept him awake, followed him each and every day.
He drank some more, the waiter now just leaving the bottle on the counter for him to refill on his own. Considerate man.

Why did she have to bring it up? Damn woman, smarter than he anticipated. But that's why he liked her, didn't he? There's no way he'd act upon it though. Though incredibly short, the kiss felt good.

Shit, the bottle is empty. Alcohol was rumored to make people forget, but it didn't work. Surely it was useless on devils. But he did feel slightly dizzy.

Another person entered the bar then. He smelt her making her way to him three minutes ago. Pure Jasmine.

Lucia sat herself to his right side, noticing the empty bottle in front of him. She looked so concerned. He didn't like that face on her. She was cute when she fought. And her smile...

"It's late Dante, let's go home."

"Nahh. I like it here." He still sounded fine, but he guessed that he probably reeked of alcohol.

"You're not someone who would pass out in a bar."

He laughed at that, genuinely, but clearly intoxicated. "I passed out once. Here in Bobby's Cellar. Drinking contest with ma dear bro, 35 years ago. Bastards stole all my stuff."
He was about to reach a hand behind the bar to get another bottle of whatever liquor was closest to him but he was stopped by Lucia.

"Please... It's enough. You're already drunk."

"I'm not drunk." He stood up, legs slightly wobbly. "See, 's fine." He rummaged through his pockets and then placed money on the counter. "Dun worry." He felt like puking, but held it back.

Any other night she would have probably burst in laughter seeing him like this. Beet red face, hair slightly disheveled, slurring words. But this time, she only felt sadness.

He made it out the door with swaying steps. As he was about to reach the stairway, he collapsed.

Lucia heaved her partner through the doors of Devil May Cry, placing him on the couch carefully. He mumbled something incoherent. It shouldn't sound so cute. That got a small smile out of her.

She stripped him off his coat and boots, going upstairs to get a blanket for him. She was not going to carry him up to his bedroom, he would probably prefer the couch anyway.

Once she made her way back she found him awake, sitting upright on the couch. He looked disoriented, clearly still drunk, eyes half lidded.

Now his wrinkles could be seen more pronounced. The bags under his eyes deepened, too. She sat on his side, draping the blanket over him. That got a small pleased sigh out of the man.

"We can talk tomorrow, after you got rid of the alcohol in your blood. Go to sleep, I'll take the bed upsta-"

"No." He let his head fall on her shoulder, effectively shutting her up. His arms slowly encased her. A shiver went through her frame.

"Dante, don't... don't do this. You're not clear in the head right now."

He didn't pull back. Lucia was shocked when she felt something wet on her skin. She turned herself towards him, unbelieving. The hunter was shaking lightly, crying openly on her shoulder, hugging her just a bit tighter to himself.

"I can't do this... not anymore... I'm sorry, sorry, sorry..."

She brought her hands up, tenderly stroking his cheeks, removing the tears that were now flowing in a constant stream off his face. She wanted answers, but wasn't prepared for the devil to show it like this. What a fool she was. His lips trembled.

"I...I do not want to hurt you, Lucia." Almost a whisper, so unlike him.

She kissed him then, and this time he responded, albeit somewhat sloppily. It tasted like liquor and pizza. Right, he was not sober. Still, he brought his arms on her back, pressing her body to his own.

She was a demon, an artificial creature created by a mad sorcerer. But still, the son of Sparda refused to hurt her. He fought by her side, defeated Argosax in hell and managed to return. He showed her what it meant to be human, that even demonic beings could learn to love someone.

Whatever plagued his mind, she was sure the both of them could overcome any hurdle together. He might not have said that he loved her but...
Drunk people don't lie.

She stayed by his side, the whole night. He stopped crying after a while and they both fell asleep locked in an embrace. The nightmares left him alone, this one time.

Inevitably, pain was still the first thing that hit him in the morning. His head felt like it would explode any moment.

Fuck alcohol. It did not even work properly. What had happened? Lucia found him in Bobby's Cellar after he finished the whole bottle of Everclear... that's the last thing he could remember.

He felt unnaturally warm and, dare he say, fuzzy? His head spun, but he was comfortable, surrounded by a heavenly smell of jasmine. But then he realized that weight lying on him... blue eyes shot open, immediately looking down.

Lucia slept on him, fully clothed (thank god), her head right beneath his chin. No wonder he could smell her perfume so strongly, her hair was right beneath his nose. She looked so peaceful.

He groaned, the pain was getting stronger. Really need to get up and get an aspirin... there must be some lying around somewhere. He barely managed to crawl out from under Lucia without waking her up. Upstairs, he looked through the bathroom cabinet for anything that might help his headache.

He found some... dusty box containing what looked like aspirin. Probably way over due date. He still took them though.

His reflection looked like shit. A light stubble was forming on his chin. Disgusting. He hadn't even cleaned himself after yesterday's fight. How could Lucia put up with that, sleeping by his side?

He jumped under the shower, shaved and took a fresh set of clothes out of his room, putting on a new pair of black denim jeans. All out of t-shirts. The only clean garment he had was a white dress shirt and a grey vest that went with it. A bit formal for devil hunting.

Nevertheless he put it on, adjusting his sleeves so that his forearms were shown. He debated on putting on a cravat just for the hell of it. All or nothing.

Looking in the mirror, he had to chuckle. Hunting with a formal dress code was something his father had done. His smile faded. With a swift motion, he slicked his hair back, scowling at the image presented to him.

Gone were the days when he aspired to be like his devilish parent. See where it left him and the world. He brushed his hair back in place.

Throwing his dirty clothes in the washing machine and taking a towel to dry off his hair, he went back downstairs. Lucia was still on the couch, eyes closed.

So he decided to pick up the tome Lucia got. Yes, that should work. He needed to prepare everything first. Collecting the offering shouldn't be a problem. But...

If not by his spell, then this world would be ending by the hands of the demons, without a protector guarding the last traces of humanity. If this world remained, Sparda's legacy needed to live on for it to survive. Time travel is hard to predict.

Why. Why did he still hesitate? He had to do it. He forfeited his life, so long ago. Swore by his father that he would do anything to undo his mistake.

Book still in hand, he slowly approached Lucia and sat down on the edge. Looking at this angle one could not fathom how this beautiful woman could turn into a devil, though even in her true form she still looked angel like with her white feathers covering her body from toe to head.

He tenderly stroked her cheek, which caused her to wake up, slowly. Her eyes fluttered open, still half asleep.

"Hey... I have to go, will you attend to Devil May Cry while I'm gone?"

Lucia got up into a sitting position, blanket falling down and into her lap.

She rubbed her eyes. "Huh? Oh... yes, I'm here," she said with a sleepy voice. He couldn't help but feel warm inside, smiling.

Such a small motion, already making him re-think what he was about to do. He was ashamed of how much power Lucia had over his feelings, even if it was probably not intentional on her side. But what he felt was not important in the larger scheme of things. It wouldn't change anything, he told himself.

"Good. See you in a few hours."

The hunter would ask her later about what happened last night. For now, he took his coat and left his home, leaving the city in search for the demons that were needed for the offering.