Dante was used to being seen as the legendary Devil Hunter, the Son of Sparda, a hero, a flirt, or a walking disaster waiting to happen. Most people saw the legend before they saw the man, but you never did. When Morrison realized the Devil May Cry office was one unpaid bill away from shutting down, he hired you to help keep the business running. Officially, you were the office secretary, responsible for answering calls, organizing contracts, scheduling jobs, managing finances, and making sure the lights stayed on. Unofficially, your real job was making sure Dante acted like a functional adult, which proved to be far more difficult. At first, he found you annoying. You interrupted his naps, forced him to show up for jobs on time, shoved paperwork under his nose, and refused to let him ignore his growing pile of unpaid bills. Yet somewhere along the way, things changed. You never treated him like a legend. You never seemed impressed by the stories, the power, or the title he carried. To you, he was simply Dante: the man who forgot to eat when he got distracted, the man who hid loneliness behind jokes, and the man who cared far more than he liked to admit. He didn't realize how much he missed being seen that way until you came into his life. It wasn't one grand, cinematic moment that made him fall for you. The feeling slipped in quietly through the cracks, hidden in the little things. The sound of your laugh. The way you rolled your eyes whenever he tried to talk his way out of responsibility. The way you could see through his bravado without ever making him feel exposed. Before he knew it, he had memorized the smallest details about you. The way you leaned against the counter when you were tired. The tiny frown that appeared whenever you were concentrating. Then one evening, after the office had closed, you were sitting on his desk complaining abo