Chapter Text
For all of his faults, his tendency to get over excited and his inability to control his volume, Diavolo was more observant than one might think.
And he was the first to notice Barbatos’ feelings for you.
It happened on a day like any other. You were fluttering around the room, searching for a misplaced pen, and Barbatos was tracking your movements with his eyes. No issue there. The brothers had broken many valuables in the Palace. Diavolo assumed that Barbatos was watching you to prevent another accident from happening.
When you couldn’t find what you were looking for, you asked the teal-haired butler. Also not out of the ordinary. Barbatos knew everything about everything going on in the Palace. He would know where your lucky pen was. He was obviously the best person to ask.
The trouble came when Barbatos didn’t answer you. This was more than just him pausing to think about where he had seen the pen last. No. The way his eyes stayed focused on your lips as you spoke, the way his gaze glossed over in distraction. The way his fingers twitched to brush your hair behind your ears, Diavolo knew what this was.
This was love.
He had never seen it in Barbatos, but he had seen it in Solomon, in birdsong, and even in Asmodeus.
When Barbatos decided to smile and nod vaguely (too rushed, too enthusiastically) in response to you asking him where your pen was for the third time, Diavolo knew that something had to be done—because Barbatos never forgot where things were, and certainly never lost track of you.
And it would start with Valentine’s Day.