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

Part 7

Part 7:

Patty’s P.O.V

“Remember to behave yourself, Patty. I’ll be home for dinner today.” Mummy says, and then kisses me on the forehead. I struggled not to roll my eyes, grinning at Mummy. She doesn’t know that I’m not the one misbehaving in Devil May Cry.

“Mummy, it’s Dante who misbehaves!” I complain as I watch her walk away.

It is another day that I spend at Devil May Cry, cleaning for that good-for-nothing man. Man, I wonder what I would be doing in future. I will work hard, and be a fashion designer! I’ll be so famous that I even have the money to hire Dante to be my model. Yeah, that’ll be funny.

But I could not deny Dante had a good shape too. My future boyfriend would be just like him. Well, not exactly him. My future boyfriend would have the shape like him. But definitely not as lazy as he is.

I watched Mummy turn the corner and disappear; sighing because I knew what was waiting me inside the shop. I open the door, and Dante hears me when I come in. I know he is a devil hunter and a part-demon, but he always doesn’t show it.

“You’re late today.” He grumbles, and I’m surprised he is even awake.

“It’s not like you care anyway, Dante. I’m just your maid.” I said, offended.

I slam the door to show that I’m pissed, but he doesn’t care and falls back to sleep.

I frown, walking towards the back where I kept everything. Feeling particularly lousy, I make sure everything I do travels to the main room, hoping to keep Dante awake. But that man can sleep through a war. Even if a bomb dropped on his head; he wouldn’t know.

I start cleaning the place methodically, starting from the corner closest to Dante. He grumbles and tosses when I purposely spray some water over him. I suppress the urge to throw the rag at his face, knowing full well that he would just throw the dirty back at me and ruin my favorite dress.

I am done cleaning the main office in a blink, but upstairs is harder work. Especially Dante’s room. Unable to help myself, I wrinkle my nose as I pull another Playboy magazine from under the bed. What was wrong with him and staring at these scantily-dressed and sometimes not dressed women? Dante was a pervert that was for sure. I wasn’t even sure why I was still here, when Mummy could easily put me with a babysitter. But Dante owes me strawberry sundaes, and he’s a sucker at poker.

I was lugging –dragging –the trash out from Dante’s room when the other door opened. I stopped, and gasped, unable to help myself as I stare at his six-pack. He had the shape like Dante too. I turned away quickly, feeling my cheeks burn up.

“Cleaning out Dante’s trash?” He asked sleepily as he walked forward, ignorant to the fact that he was wearing only a pair of boxers, his amulet and nothing else.

“Y-Yeah…” I stutter, focusing on the black trash bag.

Don’t look at him, Patty. Don’t go cross-eyed at his handsome body. I tell myself, but my mind keeps on pulling the image back up. God.

“Here, give it to me. You can’t hope to drag that thing down the stairs. You’ll topple over that pretty little head of yours.” He steps up next to me, taking hold of the trash over my hand. I blush even deeper, and pray to god that he didn’t see it.

“Um… T-thanks, V-Vergil.” I stutter. I sound stupid. Why couldn’t I just speak properly? I must really be a sight, going all speechless after seeing a man topless. Hey, I’ve seen Dante topless a dozen of times before, but I’ve never lost my tongue like this. I must be crazy.