"Cute." Dante murmured, his voice carrying a playful tone as his hand gently rested on Elizabeth's head. He stroked her hair softly, his fingers sliding through the golden strands, trying to offer some comfort as she cried uncontrollably against his chest.
She sobbed, the mix of relief and shock evident in her expression. The weight of the fear of losing her father was now crashing down on her, and Dante, despite his chaotic and irreverent nature, knew that this moment belonged to her.
He didn't say anything immediately, simply keeping his hand there, allowing her to let it all out until, little by little, her sobs began to fade. Time seemed to stretch, but he didn't mind. When she finally started to catch her breath, Dante tilted his head slightly to look at her.
"Have you cried it all out?" he asked with a teasing smile, his eyes playful yet still gentle. "Take a deep breath. Your old man isn't going to die… not now, at least."