Work Text:
~ You made one mistake.
One small, harmless mistake.
You said, “Hey, we’re out of snacks. Let’s go to Trader Joe’s.” and now Vergil is standing in the frozen aisle, vacantly staring at the ready made packaged food. “This place,” he says coldly, eyes narrowing at a bag of pot stickers. “Only those who lack power would need this." you grab a cart “It’s a grocery store.” He folds his arms. “Then why does everything look...fake. ” You look around. He’s not wrong. There are hand-drawn signs and overly cheerful employees getting paid little to nothing, honestly more dystopian then Regraves City. “focus,” you say. “We need chips, milk and something quick for dinner...”, before you can finish you turn to find that Vergil has immediately disappeared. Of course he does, you find him five minutes later in the snack section, holding a bag of hot takis.
“These claim to be ‘intense,’” he says. “I will be the judge of that.” before you can even stop to think “Please don’t open it before we—” Too late, the loud pop of the chip bag can be heard as he picks up a single roll in slow motions and puts it in his mouth vertically. “…acceptable.” he says trying to fight off a painful cough.
you sigh “Just put it in the cart. We HAVE to buy them now."
At checkout, the situation deteriorates further, you try to pay but Vergil places a single hand on the card reader. “I will handle this.” " Vergil, You don’t have money...” He blinks in silence for a few seconds, his tall statured stands out in the overall bleak selection of guys “I have power." You quickly retort back “That’s not how currency works."
Eventually, you pay.
Vergil insists on carrying all the bags, despite the fact that there are too many and he refuses to make multiple trips because “efficiency is strength.” Halfway home, a bag breaks. A bag of pot stickers scatter on the sidewalk a few blocks from your perfect suburban home. He freezes, the entire street felt like it went quiet honestly.
You’re pretty sure he’s about to summon a sword. “Vergil,” you say carefully, trying to make sure he doesn't suffer a heart attack or worse a dementia attack. “it’s just groceries.” He looks down at the dumplings “…the bag was too weak." You hand him another bag. “We’ll get more next time, it's okay Vergil..." You say calmly, really it's just groceries to you.
Then, quietly “Next time… we will go to this ‘Trader Joe.’” You stare at him judgingly “..you hated it.” He turns away, already walking. You feel yourself grin against your will "OH MY GOD DID YOU ACTUALLY LIKE IT" you start slightly running to chase him as he starts power walking quietly.
