It was early the next morning when the silver haired man awoke again. He sat up and yawned, looking out a window on the other side of the room from the bed he had been lying in.

Still black as pitch.

He was feeling much better, no pain assailed him as he stretched, checking the room for that ebony haired man with the red eyes. Those eyes, for some reason, had appeared in his dreams last night. They were just so familiar… but try as he may he couldn’t place them, not at all, a fact that seemed impossible.

But despite this, he couldn’t resist the idea that he knew those orbs, those blood-red irises, from somewhere.

As he stood, he noticed one thing wrong about his attire. All it consisted of, at that moment, was pants. Oh what the fuck? Great… I probably got raped by that red-eyed psycho… he thought. Or at least fondled.

But somehow, he didn’t think that that guy had done anything of the like to him. He couldn’t imagine it. Those eyes, they had been far too kind hearted for any shit like that. But he knew better than to trust people based on appearance. He had been deceived too many times to allow that mistake to happen again.

“Where the hell are my…” Just as he was looking around, his clothes became obvious to him. They were draped over the back of the chair the man had been sitting in earlier. A small smirk played across his face as he thought of the connotations of that.

“Whatever, it isn’t as if I’m going to be here very long… it’s not as if this guy is stalking me.” A slight shiver ran up his spine at that seemingly innocent thought.

He was just pulling the black, three quarter sleeved t-shirt over his muscular frame when he felt another presence in the room. His silvery blue eyes narrowed as he turned to the door, and saw none other than that man there as he fastened the belt around his neck.

Ok, so his ‘stalker’ wasn’t the only one with a leather fetish.

“You’re awake.” The red-eyed man observed.

“Ah… yeah…” The silver haired one shot back, reaching over for his red vest and slipping into it, tightening those buckles as well.

“I would have expected you to be up sooner.”

The seemingly injured man rose an eyebrow then, reaching for his jacket, pulling it on as well. “Why is that? I thought you said you hadn’t seen me before yesterday.”

“I hadn’t.”

“Then how did you expect me up sooner?”

“Because, I can smell strength on you.”

“You’re really fucking weird, you know that?” The silver haired man asked, moving to walk by the one with the ebony hair and red eyes. He was blocking his progress though, and the two of them just ended up staring at each other for a while, maybe a foot of distance between them.

“You have no idea.”

“I don’t want to have any idea, I want to get out of here, I’ve got a shop to run.”

“Devil May Cry, right?” The man asked.

“How the hell do you know that?”

“It isn’t there anymore –“

“What?”

“- it was destroyed –“

“How?”

“In your last battle, by a demon called Chaos.”

Silver hued eyes narrowed. “Who the fuck are you?”

“I could ask you the same question.”

“Dante.”

“Vincent.”

And with that, the two of them were introduced, each having a rather odd vibe about the other.