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Vergil was hunched over himself on the floor. His long legs were drawn up to his chest and his arms encircled his knees. His face was buried in the fabric of his shorts and wracking sobs shook his body. He heard light footsteps approaching, but he refused to look up.
"Are you crying?"
Dante. Of course. It was just his luck to have his little brother find him on one of the rare occasions that his emotions managed to get the best of him. He preferred to bury his feelings deep down, beneath an impassive mask, but this meant that the proverbial bottle always eventually exploded. Vergil took a deep breath and did his best to calm down. "N-no!" He said entirely unconvincingly. His voice came out wet and reedy.
"You are!" Dante insisted.
"No I'm n-not!" But his sentence was clearly interrupted by tears.
Vergil still refused to raise his head but it didn't stop Dante from teasing him regardless. "Vergil is crying! Vergil is crying!" He said in a sing-song voice.
It was loud enough that their mother overheard. "Dante! Leave your brother alone!" Eva scolded from the kitchen.
Then he heard her familiar gait beside him. She must have kneeled over him, because he felt her hot breath tickle his arms. Vergil sucked in a watery breath, trying to steady himself.
"Vergil, look at me," she said softly.
But he shook his head and refused to raise his face. It was embarrassing enough without having to show undeniable proof that he had, in fact, been crying.
"Dante, go to your room," she said sternly.
"But-"
"Now, " there was a hardness to her voice that made even his obstinate little brother scamper off without another word.
Then Eva turned her attention back to him. She ran soft fingers through his hair with one hand and rubbed comforting circles into his back with the other and the action caused Vergil to start sobbing anew.
"Shhhhh, shhh. It's alright. I'm not angry with you anymore," she said gently.
And then he finally raised his head to meet her gaze. His mother smiled down at him and her green eyes were sparkling affectionately. She was still wearing her apron, she must have been tending to the sink full of dirty dishes when the sound of her sons fighting had disturbed her. Eva moved her hand from his hair to tenderly wipe his tears away with her thumb and when she opened her arms, Vergil did not hesitate to fall into them. He buried his face in the crook of her neck, covering her skin with hot tears. His mother hushed him comfortingly again and then lifted him up into her arms. Vergil was five and no doubt getting a little too old to be carried around, but Eva didn't seem to mind and neither did he. He moved his dangling legs to hook behind her back and his arms wrapped around her shoulders.
"Vergil, I need you to be a big boy and calm down. Can you do that for me?" But there was no heat to the statement.
Regardless, the shame of it all only made him cry harder and sobs wracked his body once more.
"Okay, alright. You just let it all out then, " she relented.
Vergil did not need to be told twice. He tightened his grip on her and cried for what felt like an eternity until his sobs finally gave way to shuddering hiccups. Once she was satisfied that he was done, she pressed a kiss to his crown.
"Come on, let's get you cleaned up. "
"I'm n-not a b-baby," he grumbled in a shaky voice.
Eva shifted her hold on him until he was leaned against her waist. He'd finally loosened the vice grip of his legs around her hips. His mother smoothed back his hair and regarded his frown with a comforting smile.
"Of course you aren't. But you'll always be my little boy and I want to take care of you. Will you let me?" She had stopped carrying him towards the bathroom and waited for his answer. Vergil sniffed and wiped his eyes with his sleeve, and then he gave a very small nod. "Thank you," she said.
Eva sat him on the bathroom counter and fetched a tissue for him. She handed it over for him to blow his nose while she hunted for a face cloth. She then ran it under the cold tap and bent down to wipe at his red-rimmed eyes and puffy cheeks.
"Vergil... You know that I love you, don't you? And I will always love you, even when I'm angry with you?" she said haltingly.
Vergil didn't answer, instead, staring at the crumpled-up tissue in his hand. Eva sighed at his silence pressed another kiss to his hair. Then she motioned for him to throw the wad away.
"Now then, " she gently hooked a finger under his chin so that he was forced to meet her soft gaze. "I think a poetry book would make you feel better, don't you?"
Vergil sniffed again and looked down, "They're all in my room and I don't want Dante to make fun of me again for crying. "
"I'll get it then. In the meantime, you go to my bedroom and wait for me there. Which poem do you want?"
"Can I have the William Blake one?"
"Again? How many times have you read that one?" But she relented when Vergil glanced up at her pleadingly. "All right then, my little poet. We can read it again. "
And soon Eva was cuddled up against her oldest son with a worn book in her hand. Her other arm was curled around Vergil comfortingly.
"'Never seek to tell thy love,
Love that never told can be;
For the gentle wind doth move
Silently, invisibly. '
It's a beautiful poem, Vergil. I can see why you like it so much. "
Her son nodded tiredly against her. He was exhausted from crying and the soft mattress and gentle voice of his mother's reading was lulling him to sleep. His eyes drooped and he had faded into the dark oblivion of dreams by the time she'd finished.
"I told my love, I told my love,
I told her all my heart,
Trembling, cold, in ghastly fears.
Ah! she did depart!
Soon after she was gone from me,
A traveller came by,
Silently, invisibly:
He took her with a sigh," she recited. "But it's such a sad one," she added quietly.
She looked over to see that Vergil had fallen asleep. His mouth was agape and his was snoring softly.
"Oh, my stubborn, proud, sensitive little boy. Whatever am I going to do with you," she sighed to herself.
And then Eva pulled the blanket over him, stroked his cheek gently, and closed the door behind her.
Vergil jerked awake to the sound of his father's arrival. The front door had closed heavily, alerting Vergil to the fact that his sire had returned. Sparda had been out on some business or another all day and returned, as per usual, only in the evening. Vergil rubbed his eyes sleepily and then headed towards the front door to greet him.
"Dante," came his father's booming voice. "Your mother told me about what happened today."
Vergil crept closer to the scene, just in time to witness his younger brother burst into tears. Dante was standing in the doorway of their shared room, sobbing loudly and scrubbing at his eyes with his hands.
"You're crying," Vergil smirked at him.
"No I'm not!" His twin insisted even as tears streamed down his face and his body shook.
"Vergil!" Scolded Eva sternly.
And the oldest son's lip trembled in response as he glanced down at the floor. Sparda sighed and reached out a hand towards Dante, who only cried harder as he retreated into his room. Eva shot one last warning look at Vergil before she followed. He peered around the doorway to see his mother with her arm around his younger brother. Dante was sobbing into her shirt as she brushed his hair comfortingly.
"Honestly!" Vergil heard her exclaim in exasperation. "What am I going to do with you boys!"