Vergil was sitting on the couch, gazing absently out the window, when his eyes fell on Viviane, standing in the living room, lost in her thoughts.
She was immersed in something, perhaps memories from her trip to Romania or something deeper he couldn't quite understand.
It had been a few days since she returned from her "personal mission," but it seemed like her mind hadn't fully come back yet.
"Viviane," Vergil called, once again trying to pull her into the present moment.
His tone was calm, but there was a hint of frustration beneath it, as though he had tried this before with no success. Nothing. No reaction.
He stood up from the couch and walked over to her, observing her as he moved.
She was distant, her eyes fixed on a point in the emptiness, as though she was in another place, another time.
