#viln

“Noir, I believe you’re the mistaken. Lingerie cannot make something perfect any better. It’s merely meant to add ornamentation." 

"Vergil, Vergil. It’s not just ornamentation. You need to understand that lingerie is meant to celebrate your utmost favorite physical aspect of your significant other. So which is it? Her butt or her boobs?" 

"You spend an obscene amount of time with my brother.”

Of all the word choices he could’ve used… 

I cross my arms, “Answer the question, brother-in-law.” he makes a face at the title I had given him, “You and Dante aren’t even married.” 

“Our mutual distaste for commitment is what keeps us together.” Even I could tell he was trying really hard to avoid answering my question, “Vergil, tell me.”

“Vergil.”

“Vergil!”

“Legs.”

“What?”

“It’s her legs. I like her legs.” he pinches the bridge of his nose because I am clearly annoying him but it was hard to take him seriously when he was surrounded by panties and corsets. I smile at him, “Do you know what this means?” His shoulders slump as the fingers on his left hand press to his temple, he closes his eyes, “Please. Enlighten me.” he says with a heavy sigh.

 “Thigh highs and garter belts.” I say quietly as if it were the secret to the universe. His eyes widen ever so slightly at the realization, he straightens up and looks to me with a serious expression. 

It was strange. First, was the fact that Vergil had asked me to accompany him on a trip to Neiman Marcus of all the god forsaken places. Second, was the rate at which the entire department store seemed to devoid itself of its other upscale patrons leaving behind only their (rather frightened looking) employees. My guess was that this wasn’t the first time Vergil had stepped into this place. 

It didn’t take long for me to grow bored of looking at all the clothes that could pay the shop’s rent. So I made a game out of showing Vergil random articles of clothing simply for the thrill of getting some semblance of reaction from him. 

“What about this one?” I said holding up a rather riske piece of lingerie that’s barely hanging off of the hanger by its strings. 

Vergil makes a point not to look directly at it as he busies himself with the array of suits lined up before him, “Please do not bring my brother’s interests into our shopping trip.” he says in a flat tone which indicates that he doesn’t feel like humoring me at the moment. 

Yet the grin on my face doesn’t falter, “Not for me, silly. For Vil.” I make sure to emphasize his wife’s name as I shake the hanger.