Living with Dante {Devil May Cry fanfic~} #1

Part 1

Living with Dante (Devil May Cry fanfic)

Part 1:

To live with Dante, you would think I’m a female, first of all, considering his tendency to have a soft heart for women with luscious or seductive figures, as evidenced by his ever-present magazine of Playboy whenever I caught sight of him.

You would have expected me to be a beautiful girl, with a nice buxom or cute figure, perhaps with an enticing pair of lips to match. Maybe you would have thought I was someone with long hair that waved in the wind, or simply just a schoolgirl with an innocence that was strangely alluring.

But it didn’t apply to me.

First: because I wasn’t a girl. I wasn’t even a woman. Yeah, I’m the direct opposite. I’m a guy. Not what you expect for someone to be mixed up with someone like Dante, son of Sparda.

Second: I didn’t even look strikingly close to a female. I definitely did not have the anatomy that made Dante drool. Neither did I have the bulge that made his eyes linger. Definitely not. The bulge I will probably ever have is either I get bruised somehow, or I see a really hot girl.

Third: I was as seemingly as much a man as I can ever manage to be. Strange, really, how I made my acquaintance with a devil hunter like Dante. Perhaps it was because of the conflict of interest and curiosity that I stayed. But I figured, since I was stuck with a guy like him, I might as well mess up his place rather than find somewhere on my own. Besides, at his side were cute girls that were my type.

The only problem with all this? I am often mistaken to be him. Or like him. Or something close to that. Patty keeps on saying that my pig snores are like his. Lady likes to put the bill on me, as if I’m him. I try to remind Trish time and again that no, I, unlike Dante, don’t take too much of strawberry sundae. But they never listen, and I’m always his scapegoat.

But hey, I’m getting ahead of myself here.

Let me tell you how I met him.

After all, before all that happened, I was just a normal guy.

Really……

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I am twenty one this year, but I stayed a few years at my university, because I was still of normal age in there and no one wanted me anywhere else. Besides, I wasn’t thinking of working out in the world yet, so I was wasting my time till I found something that interested me. I had breezed through many different courses, finished most of them with fairly well grades.

It helped that my dad was rich, and did not give a single hoot of what I did with my life unless I got the police up to our house. By house, I mean a mansion. My mum spent more time in Paris, constantly following up on the fashion there more than she spent getting to know me and my sis. Effectively, my sis and I only had each other, but it was cool, since she was still only fourteen while I was twenty one, so I could bully her whenever I wanted to. Dad always favored her more than me, but I didn’t care. After all, Dad didn’t really care about any one of us.

You might think I am love-deprived. Not really. With money and looks, I got love when I wanted it. Don’t mistake me a playboy. When I fall, I fall hard. But when I flirt, I flirt hard too. I rarely get myself in serious relationships, maybe a few misplaced kisses somewhere, a few stray thoughts in my head when I got to parties with drunken girls, but hey, I’m of legal age. Most of the girls I keep my eyes on are too, so there was no issue in that.

Today, I feel exceptionally well. Perhaps because it was the last day of the finals examinations, and then I would be free to hang out in parties. Not because I’d been cooping myself, mugging my brains out with useless information. No, I never do that. But my classmates and friends do, because they really have to finish their school terms and get on with life while I stay behind every single year.