Vergil hardly orders anything, and V doubts the third item is for himself. He may not gorge himself on fine foods, but specifically requested eggs to be neither salted nor seasoned is bland beyond reason for personal consumption. However, it is something. V orders Early Grey tea with a blueberry muffin. He adds on a scone, a croissant, and a biscuit. To even out the options, it's a carb heavy menu, he orders an omelette with a variety of vegetables in it and... whatever a bird's nest is. He has no idea. V also asks to keep the tea coming for the table. The waitress eyes V, her eyes taking in his gaunt form, before she agrees in a chipper manner and leaves them be.

V permits the cat to rub against his hand a little while longer before he moves it slowly and gently to brush back against her cheek. She's soft, and her body is so small that he could hold her with a single arm against his chest. He's slow to increase his affections lest he scare her off. Vergil must come frequently for the cat in his lap to have established such a routine. He doesn't imagine their trust is easy to gain, especially as a half-devil. Animals have senses for those things. It's a small simple pleasure, and he enjoys it immensely.

Conversation is a difficult matter to broach with so many topics implicitly off limits. The cats. The cafe. Vergil's history in Folkmore. Vergil's history since the merging. V wants to know more but doubts how much the other man will reveal. "I've found little demands on me from this place yet, only exceptionally social spirits when in public."