[dante nods knowingly, understanding of the situation she is in. it is difficult, to think about someone who has been lost. anything can trigger a memory of them, or even just be a reminder of their face or mannerisms. for dante, for years, he would break mirrors when his face was the one to remind him of his brother—aging and knowing that the only face he could remember of vergil at the time was when he was nineteen, or of a corrupted demon in pain.]
[he brings his glass up.]
A toast, to your brother. [if she raises her cider to clink with his glass, he adds.] May he find peace.
no subject
[he brings his glass up.]
A toast, to your brother. [if she raises her cider to clink with his glass, he adds.] May he find peace.